


Into the Cold and Dark

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Accounting, Aftermath of Everything, Angst, Attack, BDSM, Biting, Blindfolds, Bondage, Brutality, Cage, Canes, Chemistry, Clean-Up, Collars, Crimes, Diapers, Face-Fucking, Fainting, Fear, Fisting, Gags, Gunshots, Hair-pulling, Human Bin, Leashes, M/M, NOT Johnlock, Orgy, Piercings, Plugs, Rape, Riding Crop, Sadism, Sex-Trafficking, Shooting, Slapping, Soldiers, Suspension, Torture, Torture Chamber, Unfairness, Uniform Kink, Videogames, Waxing, Weapons, baby-play, blow-jobs, body-harness, c&b harness, c&b torture, cock-cage, cross-dressing, demonstration of obedience, fake name, keeping Sherlock safe, locked away, lots of sex-toys, läser, nipple-clamps, paddles, penis-plug, pony-play, stainless-steel restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:34:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 73,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27329602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: Sherlock Holmes has been abducted while being high. A sex-trafficking ring, calledThe Agencycaught him and trained him to become a perfect submissive.One day, John Watson rents him and he stays with the man, a dom as well as a criminal and brutal sadist. Sherlock never wants to return to the agency and does what he is told. Everything.He needs John in his life now and has no choice. Until one day, when everything changes.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 29
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter 1

He had no idea how long he had been trained to become the perfect submissive. He had lost all hopes of being rescued. By whom anyway? He just wanted to live. So, he did what being told. Every day. Again, and again.

One day his routine was broken and they tied him up and blindfolded him at an unusual hour. He was let out of the room into another one upstairs. He felt carpet beneath his feet. A feeling long gone. He tried to enjoy what he could.

A finger tipped lightly on his shoulder and he fell on his knees. The blindfold was taken away and two fingers tipped on his head and he knew to lower it and avert his eyes at all costs.

He stared onto the carpet. Someone circled him, ruffled his hair, and moved his palm and fingers over his scars. He shuddered but didn’t move.

“What does it cost?” Sherlock almost cried. He was nothing. He was furniture to use. Paper was exchanged and read.

“I don’t buy a pig in a poke. I want to try it.”

“Very well, Sir. Oral? Anal? Whatever?” The guest quickly decided.

“Oral for now. But I want it to present. Oh, and does it have table manners?”

“Oh, it sure does have table manners.” He took off the connection between his wrist cuffs and ordered him to present.

At once Sherlock moved on his hands and knees and spread his legs wide. He lifted his arse and pressed his forehead on the carpet.

“Show our client how eager you are to please him.” That was a sentence which triggered his cock to swell. The man was indeed very pleased.

“That looks very good to me. And now hand it over to me.” His leash was given to the stranger and Sherlock knew what to do. He opened his mouth wide and the thick cock was already forced between his lips. And thick it was. Sherlock at once started to sweat. The dom didn’t give him orders, so he just held his position. He felt the flesh grow more and more and soon enough his breathing got constricted.

“Look at me!” There was an order. Sherlock was almost happy about it. He had felt lost without being ordered to do something. And he looked up meeting the ice-blue ones of the dom above him. His eyes slanted and then he just pushed and pushed until saliva and pre-cum ran over his chin. The man soon grinned. His cock stuck partly in Sherlock’s throat and he swallowed quickly several times around him. The man grunted and came. Sherlock swallowed and managed it, even though he became dizzy. But he also felt the man’s fingers scratching over his scalp.

The moment he pulled out Sherlock fell back on hands and knees again looking down. The dom didn't move away and his legs were very close to Sherlock’s body who felt his body-heat emanate against his naked skin. He savoured the moment.

“The price for it is acceptable. Please prepare him as I have stated before.”

“Of course, Sir. Do you wish delivery service or will you have it picked up?” A humming was heard.

“I’ll have it picked up.”

“Very good, Sir. We’ll have it ready by tomorrow morning. Thanks for renting at our place.” They shook hands and left. Sherlock was left behind but didn’t dare to change his position. He knew better.

Lesson learnt.

***

They left him alone for more than one hour. Then he got a rather friendly slap on his arse.

“Thank you, Master.” Lesson learnt. The man quietly chuckled.

“This was our most famous customer, the most powerful dom I have ever encountered, and he liked you. He even wants to take you home. You behaved splendidly. You will be waxed and bathed and cleaned. You will get a night off. You will sleep in a bed to be in a good condition by tomorrow morning. I expect you to be plugged over the night. There will be a selection in the room. Make good use of it.” Sherlock stayed put.

“Yes, Master.” His leash was handed over and the man left. A pull was made and he followed it. They stopped in front of a stretcher.

“Get up there.” It was a woman and he climbed onto it. She checked on his long legs and seemed to be pleased.

“Does it have any skin reactions?”

“No, Mistress.” She nodded.

“Very well. Has it ever been waxed?”

“No, Mistress.” She restrained him to the stretcher and started to place the strips on his legs. They were rather hot. While she waited her eyes roamed over his body.

“It is really beautiful.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” She giggled.

“Doesn’t it want to show me how beautiful it thinks I am?” He knew what to do and made his cock swell. She was very pleased by his instant reaction.

She ripped off the strips and he suppressed his cries. She giggled again. She repeated the process until there was no more body-hair whatsoever. Luckily, he hadn’t much body-hair. And even more luckily, she shaved his genitals and didn’t wax his skin there.

“I will clean your face now. You cried a lot and now you are all puffy and blotchy.”

“I am sorry, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.” She really did clean his face and it felt wonderful. She massaged his temple with her fingers and it felt divine.

She hooked the leash back on and had a last look. Right then the man came back and took him into another room. He handed him a bundle of clothes for the next day as well as an enema-set. Then he made him even sit at a small table to eat his meal.

“Thank you, Master.” Sherlock really was thankful. This was the best day he had had for a very long time.

***

He was left behind after dinner and a visit to the loo. There were no restraints. He was only expected to get plugged which he did. He chose a middle-sized plug and it was easy by now to get it inside.

He slept through the night and woke all by himself. It was still very early in the morning but he was used to only a few hours sleep. He needed to be ready at any time.

He used the enema-kit. He knew there wouldn’t be any breakfast.

When he returned from the bath, freshly showered, and cleaned out, he found the man and at once dropped down on his knees.

“Very good. I will prepare you now. Get up.” Sherlock stood again and let his limbs hang loose. He was given a harness which ran over his chest, shoulders and ended being hooked to his collar. Another part went between his legs and over his hips. His cock also got a harness and his balls were divided in the middle by a leather strap attached to it.

The man pressed against his back and he bent over and spread his legs. A lubed plug was shoved into his still clenching hole. It was huge but it worked just fine due to the preparation over the night. The plug was held inside with a set of straps which went around his thighs and hips, too.

At last he was gagged with a bit-gag attached to another harness which went around his head and chin. Everything sat tight and the black leather brought out his porcelain skin. The man looked pleased.

“He rented you for several days. I advise you to do what he wants. You have learnt your lessons by now and believe me when I say, he is the most sadistic dom I have ever encountered. He can’t do body-modification or brand you. He is allowed to do almost everything else. Do not provoke him.” Sherlock was scared but nodded mumbling his reply. Then he was let out where a transport box waited. He crawled inside and was cuffed to the bars with ankles and wrists.

The box was rolled into a van and the doors were closed. He sat in the dark and felt the car driving. They drove for about two hours, he estimated, until it stopped and the door was opened again. He blinked into the sun but couldn’t see a thing. Someone entered the van and threw a blanket over the box. He wasn’t allowed to see his surroundings. The box was rolled outside and it smelled like a garage. They entered an elevator and rode up. Soon there was hardwood and he smelled leather and a burning fire. The blanket was taken off and his eyes were on the ground at once.

“Get it out, get it on a leash and bring it over.” Exactly that happened and he presented himself to the dom again. He sat in an armchair and Sherlock could smell tea. God, he’d like some tea, too.

“Well, now it sits right here at my feet. What do I do with it? What will I make it do?” He folded his legs the other way. From what Sherlock could see they were very muscular legs. He had better sight today and more time to look at him.

“Is it curious who rented it?” He hummed and stood. He had seen that he was looking. He took off the gag and Sherlock’s jaw cracked.

“I want it to listen.” With a wave of his left, he made the other men leave. They were alone.

“Yes, Master.” His eyes were still on the hardwood and his voice was soft and quiet.

Never be a nuisance. Lesson learnt.

“Very well. I asked for table manners because I am having guests over. They will bring their slaves, too. Since my last personal slave died rather surprisingly, I needed a replacement. Which is it, by the way.” He chuckled.

“It is not allowed to answer their questions or even look at them. It will only listen to me and my orders.”

“Yes, Master.”

“The dinner will take place tonight. It is supposed to kneel by my side and eat what I give it. They said it has no allergies against any food?”

“No, Master.” He rubbed his hands together.

“Well, then. There are a few hours left. I want to see what it is capable of.” And he stepped up. Sherlock knew what was expected of him. He folded his hands on his nape. He still wore the harness around his head which pressed his hair down.

He opened the zip with his teeth and carefully pulled it down. He bit into the loops of his trousers and pulled it down, too, alternating sides. Then he pulled down his boxers. They were silk and he only used his lips to pull and not his teeth.

The broad-shouldered dom was impressed while looking down at his rented slave. It was trained first class. It looked absolutely gorgeous. It was a beautiful thing. And the hair beneath the harness. He swallowed and felt his lust increase. Slowly his hand came up and he buried his fingers into the silky hair. He had liked its hair the moment he had touched it when it gave him head yesterday. It was rather long and fell in curly locks on its shoulders. He wondered how it looked bound back. Bound back with a rope tied to a rope harness. His head being forced up and his neck long and white and his throat exposed and stretched out. He licked his lips.

Finally, his cock disappeared into its mouth. Its tongue worked wonders and it took it deep into its throat. It swallowed around it, sucked, and licked in perfect motions. He groaned and fisted the hair. He started to push into his plaything.

“Swallow quicker, slut!” He ordered him and Sherlock at once obeyed. His throat hurt already and so did his head but he performed as being taught. The dom came into its throat and it just swallowed everything. Afterwards it cleaned his cock and licked off the last drop of cum from the slit.

It kept kneeling straight and waited for more orders to come. Bloody hell, that had been extraordinaire. The powerful dom cleared his throat and dressed again.

“It really is worth the price I paid. They didn’t lie about it. I think this will work out perfectly. I think I will tie it to my bed now and just watch for a bit. Then I will fuck it and perhaps I will hit it. No, not perhaps. I will hit it.” He laughed loudly grabbing the leash and took him upstairs. Sherlock crawled by his side. He was scared. This man was different from all his tormentors he had encountered before. Even the ones who had used him as a bin in their kitchen.

They entered a large bedroom with a wonderful four-poster. Sherlock was impressed. This man must be rich. He had a large house, a beautifully furnished home.

“Chest down on the bed.” Sherlock quickly moved. His wrists got cuffed on his back. He also bound his arms. His ankles were pulled outwards and a bit upwards. That way he was spread open. He left the harness on, both on his body and genitals. He shoved a large ball-gag behind his teeth and buckled it tightly. Another strap was attached to a d-ring on his collar and pulled back. His head was forced up and his breathing became constricted.

And then he started to hit him with a paddle. He moved all over his body until his skin was completely red. Sherlock cried. It hurt like fuck. He sobbed and drooled around the silicone ball in his mouth. His dom laughed and enjoyed the sight.

A few minutes later he dropped the paddle. He attached something to his balls and pulled them back. His testicles were strained and he panted. He didn’t move. Now he started to pinch his balls and slapped them with a wooden ruler. And all of a sudden, he freed his genitals and straddled him. He roughly pulled out the plug and threw it away. Sherlock balled his hands into fists because it had hurt. His dom forced his hands open and squeezed them tightly. His fingers felt like being crushed. Sherlock groaned painfully and only then he let go.

Two very strong hands held him by the hips and then he pushed into him in one ruthless move. Sherlock yelled and bit hard into the ball-gag. He felt like being torn open. His whole body trembled and his limbs cramped anyway. He tried to force air into his lungs and focused on breathing but the pain in his backside was intense. He screamed loudly again and again and shook all over. He felt his fingers dig into his skin and his nails left marks. He forced his cock inch by inch into his body rotating his hips brutally slowly. It burnt like fire and now he sobbed. Snot and saliva ran out of his nose and mouth. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing.

“I want it to come like the slut it is. But not too soon.” He took away the harness around both his cock and balls. Then he started to fuck into him in a wild and brutal pace, one hand fisted his hair and the other left scratch marks on his back.

Sherlock’s cock was pressed into the mattress and it hurt, too. He sobbed and yelled and screamed until he was hoarse. But he rutted like a maniac and forced his body to react. He remembered the human bin thing. And he didn’t want to know what this insane, sadistic dom would think of as a punishment.

He lifted his head higher and screamed behind the gag. He was sweating and he came wildly. He kept panting while being attacked. His arse hurt more and more. His cock must be massive, huge, more than average size. He just hoped, he hadn’t come too soon for the likes of him but then he heard him groan and tense. He came and shot his cum into him. He fell down on his body and clung tightly to it. He stayed there for minute after minute and Sherlock wondered if he had fallen asleep.  
But then he groaned and moved. He slipped out and made Sherlock shout again. He closed his eyes and bared his teeth around the ball-gag.

“Oh, fuck …” The man muttered. And he loosened his restraints until only the gag and wrist cuffs were left. He rolled him on his back and easily moved him up to lean against the headrest. He looked at him out of hooded eyes. Quickly Sherlock cast his eyes. He could hear him chuckle and then pat his thigh.

“No worries. It won’t be punished. It performed better than expected even though it came first. I will show it its place to stay for the time being.” His wrist cuffs got unhooked. He was shoved out of the bed and crawled by his side until they reached a room opposite this one. Sherlock barely made it. He felt weak and exhausted. He hurt and was sore. But he saw there was carpet, too, and it smelled nice.

“It is allowed to look around.” He said and dropped the leash. Sherlock slowly got up and knelt straight. He indeed looked. It was wonderful. He never wanted to leave again. Carefully he moved his fingertips over the duvet and sheets.

“Egyptian cotton.” The dom stated. Sherlock sighed. He did so very quiet but the dom heard it.

“It likes the place it is given?” Sherlock nodded. The man took off the gag and Sherlock’s jaw cracked.

“Yes, Master.” He answered hoarsely. He wondered if he could convince the man to buy him. He said his last personal slave had died. So, he must need a new one, right?

“Don’t dream away.” His flat hand landed on the back of his head and he hunched and fell from there into a perfect kowtow.

“Please forgive it, Master. It is sorry, Master.” He heard him chuckle.

“I will forgive it after it has been punished. Fifteen strokes with the cane on your arse. Assume position.”

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock lifted up his arse and knelt with his chest on the carpet. He heard him opening a drawer. There were possibly many things to be used on him in there.

“I want it to count loudly, thank me and ask for more. Say it deserved it.” He landed the first hit.

“One! Thank you, Master. Please, may it have more? It deserves it very much!” He laughed and hit him again. And again. Soon Sherlock sobbed desperately. He felt the blood run down his thighs and between his cheeks but he made it. His vision was already blurry but he held his position until his Master told him otherwise.

“Well done. I am impressed. And you are forgiven.”

“Thank you, Master.” Only then the dom shoved the cane into his behind and left it there. He made a few steps back and just watched. Sherlock crawled forward very slowly and pressed his lips on his naked foot.

Lesson learnt.

***

When Sherlock was asleep, he dreamt. He had nightmares. They were about his time at the agency where he had been trained.

Sherlock cowered in the corner of the blank, white room. He was naked, bruised and freezing. He was also scared to death.  
His body shook because of the cold. The room had a floor covered with stainless steel tiles. The walls were covered halfway up in them, as well. Above the steel followed white tiles. Directly under the ceiling sat three windows which were kept open all the time.  
Another full-body shudder hit Sherlock and he closed his eyes. His stomach hurt painfully because he was so hungry. He was also thirsty but he had managed to drink some urine to survive.  
His body was sore and covered in welts and scars. Twice a day the shower ran over him automatically to wash away all the blood and gore. He wasn’t able to escape the cold water gushing out of the walls and ceiling.  
His wrists and ankles were always clad in stainless steel cuffs. The skin underneath was raw and bloody. He also wore a collar.

The very first day he had been brought here, they examined him very thoroughly. The film played in his head again.

***

After extensive using he had woken up. Stripped of all his clothes. Naked. The moment he tried to get up, the door opened and a man entered the place. He was dressed in black leather trousers, a black tee, some kind of military-style boots and he carried a cane.

“Stay down!” He yelled and hit him right on the side of his arm. Sherlock lost his stance and fell back. The pain was crucial and he shouted out his hurt. But he stayed down.

The man circled him and once and again poked him with the cane. Finally, he spoke.

“On your hands and knees. Legs spread wide. Chest and forehead on the ground. Move!” Sherlock obeyed but ground his teeth.

“Where are your manners?” He hit him on the back this time and grabbed into his curly hair to pull him up. Tears streamed out of his eyes when the man shook him brutally.

“Whenever someone gives you an order, you will obey and say _Yes, Master_ or _Yes, Mistress_. You will obey at once. If you fail, you will be punished. Is that understood?” Sherlock sobbed but said it.

Lesson learnt.

He let go and Sherlock fell back. He was circled again and he tried to stay where he was. But the moment the cane was pushed between his arse cheeks, he tried to crawl away.

“Stay!” He got hit by the cane again. He screamed and panicked. He tried to get up but the man just dropped the cane and grabbed him by the arms. He pulled his arms on his back and threw him down. Skin broke when his knees hit the steel floor. He groaned.  
The man held his bony wrists with one hand and the other fisted into his hair. He was pulled back and he whispered into his ear.

“The cane will be the friendliest thing being shoved into your cute little arse. But first we need to teach you manners and what you are from now on in just a few steps.” He stuck his tongue into his ear and Sherlock felt sick. The man chuckled and pushed him down again.

“Don’t go away!” He picked up the cane and left. Sherlock looked at the closed door. After a few minutes, the man came back together with a second man who carried a metal box. Sherlock pressed his back against the opposite wall but it didn’t help. What followed next was burnt into his mind forever.

***

The man who had carried the box just grabbed him by the wrist and pushed him flat on the ground. He pulled his arms on his back and placed the cuffs on him. Next followed the cuffs around his ankles. He was pulled back on his knees with the man kneeling behind him. A spreader-bar was placed on his thighs right above the knees to pull his legs wide apart. From his wrists led a leather strap to his ankles so he wouldn’t be able to get up. His body ached.

He forced his jaw open making Sherlock groan. A metal ring was pushed behind his teeth and the thing got buckled tightly. At once, he started to drool.

This was followed by a metal collar which snapped closed around his neck. It sat tight and pressed on his throat. It had a ring on the front.

The two men stood in front of the kneeling Sherlock who drooled around the ring and couldn’t help it. He was scared and helpless.

The first man started to pace in front of him and suddenly started to speak. He didn’t even look at him.

“There is no denial. You are here to serve. You are our slave to do as we like. You will serve everyone the way he or she likes. You need to be ready in a short time. If not, you end up as a human bin. So, the first lesson is to get ready when we tell you to.” Now he looked at his penis which hung rather sadly between his legs. Again, he got poked with the cane.

“We will train you. Soon you will react as we wish. You will respond to certain orders.” The second man handed him a rather huge dildo. Again, he fisted his hair and shoved the thing into his mouth. Sherlock gagged but he pushed and pushed. Drool spilt out of his mouth and ran down his chin and on the tiles. His body twitched but he was rendered helpless.

After several minutes the dildo flew to the side and Sherlock coughed badly but they didn’t give him a break.

“That wasn’t too bad. At least you didn’t fall.” He knelt by his side again and moved a wand over his penis. Sherlock was surprised how nice that felt. Blood rushed south and his penis quickly hardened. He didn’t want that, he felt ashamed, but it just happened. His body betrayed him. The man grinned.

“There are rewards. Lesson learnt.” He moved the wand over his balls, too. Sherlock came and wanted to disappear into thin air. Both of them laughed.

“There will be one more lesson for today.” One of them held him down and the other shoved a slick tube between his arse cheeks. He tensed and it hurt. He got slapped and it hurt. He tried to relax but when the cold fluid filled his bowels, he started to sob and cry again. His belly rounded and one of them rubbed over it. Soon he cramped and howled out his pain.

His head got forced back and a funnel was attached to the gag. They emptied a bottle of coke and a bottle of apple-juice into him. He quickly felt the urge to pee and swayed on the spot. Both of them started to touch him now. They rubbed over his nipples, fondled his balls, and stroked his cock.

The fluids gurgled inside his body. He needed to pee and he needed to come again. At first, he pissed. He pissed like a horse on the ground. They laughed. Next, they pulled out the hose. He tried, he really tried to clench, but they hit him with paddles and he let go and the fluid gushed out of him. He felt hot and red and he desperately cried some more.

They took away the strap between his wrists and ankles. They took the ring-gag away but instead shoved a penis-sized gag into him from which cables hung. It was buckled rather tight, too. They let go of him and he fell into the mess. His wrists were still tied behind his back.

“Lesson two. If you make a mess, everything will be cleaned.” They left the room and took the box away, too. The moment the door was closed, the water gushed out of the ceiling and the walls with no place to hide. His mess was flooded away. The water was cold and soon he shivered.

As soon as the water had stopped, there was a voice over a speaker.

“By the way, you need to suck on the thing in your mouth. The more you suck, the better for you. The thing measures, that’s what the cables are for.” He giggled and then added:

“Lesson learnt.”

***

Sherlock was taught many lessons. Soon he was ready to take huge dildos. He sucked cock like a pro. He ate cunt like a pro. He fucked into a woman while being fucked into his behind and at the same time held two cocks and sucked a third to completion.

When he once bit someone because of the pain, he was taught what a human bin was. It wasn’t nice.

He had been tied to a kitchen wall. His hands were behind his back. His calves and thighs were tied together. His mouth was forced open by a spider-gag and his head was tethered to the wall so he couldn’t move away when they dumped their rubbish into him. Sometimes they also pissed into him.

Lesson learnt.

***

After the beating with the cane by his new dom, he was just locked into his room and left alone. He waited for quite some time to see if someone was coming for him, but nothing happened. He carefully stood because he was in a hell lot of pain. He even dared and looked outside. The window faced a huge lawn or more a park. There was a large fountain and there was nothing but green and trees. It was beautiful. Longingly he looked outside.

He found a bathroom, too, and indulged in a bath. Before that, he showered to wash away all the blood. When he came out, he found a tray with food on the table under the window. He hadn’t heard anyone enter, but he was thankful he was given a meal. They had also prepared warm milk with honey for this throat. He sat down and devoured it all very slowly because he enjoyed every single bite. He was so very grateful.

Suddenly the door was opened and his dom entered the room. Sherlock hurried to get up and fell on his knees at once. He approached him slowly and stopped right in front of him. Sherlock was able to smell his sex, his musky scent. His knees were sore, but he knelt as expected. The man stepped up close and Sherlock’s forehead was almost resting against his groin.

“I was told it took a bath?” Sherlock swallowed. Had he been too daring? He started to sweat.

“Yes, Master.” He hummed.

“I brought clothes for tonight.” He made a gesture and another person set a bundle of clothes on the bed.

“I want it to dress. Move, pet.” Sherlock slowly moved back a bit and then stood. He looked at the clothes and they were first class. He dressed carefully and also took the shoes and tied the laces.

“Walk around a bit.” He did and was followed by his Master. He seemed to be very pleased.

“Can it dance?” Now Sherlock was really surprised.

“Yes, Master.”

“Does it speak other languages?”

“Yes, Master. French, Spanish, Russian and a bit of Pashtu, Master.”

“Very well. Now kneel again and look at me. Listen carefully.” Sherlock carefully lowered his body in front of his dom and looked up. Their eyes met.

“Yes, Master.” He nodded and moved up very close. He reached out and twirled his finger into some strands of his hair.

“I changed my plans. It will have to act tonight. It will act as my submissive boyfriend. But it will stay for the time I rented it, so don’t worry.” Sherlock wondered what had happened. What had he done wrong? Hopefully he wouldn’t be punished when he returned to the agency. He swallowed but replied.

“Thank you, Master.” Lesson learnt.

“I expect it to stay by my side. You are not to leave me alone at any time expect when I order it to chat up other people. It will dance with me and have dinner with me. It will talk nicely to my associates. There may be a public fucking, I am not sure yet. Does it think it will manage?”

“Yes, Master.” The man nodded.

“What is its name?” Sherlock swallowed. He hadn’t been using his name for ages now and he needed to clear his throat.

“It’s Sherlock, Master.”

“Oh God, don’t make something up! Consider the punishment! So?” He had been angry and pulled hard at his locks. Sherlock steadily focused on one button of his dress shirt.

“It is not making it up, Master. Its name is Sherlock, Master.” He hummed.

“Well, well. I believe it. It is much too afraid to lie to me, isn’t it?” He didn’t expect an answer.

“It will call me John. No silly nicknames or endearments, is that understood?”

“Yes, Master.” He cleared his throat and looked sternly. Sherlock swallowed.

“Yes, John.”

“Very good, pet. Now undress again and hang everything up. Neatly! I want to fuck you!” He watched him undress and as soon as he was naked, he pushed him down on the bed. He was on his back and John’s eyes roamed over his naked form. He licked his lips. His wrists got tied over his head. He lifted up his legs and placed them over his shoulders. He didn’t bother with preparing him. He just pushed inside making him yell. He was still sore. John grinned and pushed deeper, forcefully, and recklessly. Sherlock pulled at his restraints and cried. John laughed and kept fucking him in a wild and ruthless pace.

The pain was crucial and Sherlock’s vision was getting worse. He felt dizzy and a bit sick but he took it. He needed to endure because otherwise he would be sent back into the stainless-steel room. He grounded his teeth and clenched around him.

Soon he had Sherlock’s long limbs folded on his chest and pressed down. His cock was caught between their bodies and he hurt. He pinched his nipples and twisted them evilly making him scream and yell again several times until he was close to losing his voice.

Suddenly he bit him into his side. He pulled blood and licked it off of him. Now Sherlock really felt sick but suppressed it. The bite marks throbbed and the vicious dom on top of him moved up and pressed his lips on his throat, jaw, and chin. He finally kissed him on the mouth. Sherlock was able to smell the blood. And then he tasted it because he opened up at once. John bit cruelly into his tongue and lips and made him bleed some more. He was getting weak fast. It became too much. Even his cries became quieter by time and his voice was almost gone. His eyelids fluttered but he forced his body to stay alert. His dom mustn’t be angered. He needed to impress his dom, so he could stay.

The dom extended the fucking to an almost unbearable amount of time. He made him sob until he finally begged hoarsely.

“Please, Master. Please.” He laughed and rammed into him as deep as he could making him yell again. His head flew over the cushion and spit and snot and mostly tears ran over his face.

“What did I tell you, slut? Who am I?” He rammed again.

“John!” Sherlock screamed his name. And again, with every push into him. John looked very pleased now.

“Very good, indeed, slut.” He took his cock and pulled it rudely. Sherlock sobbed even more and panted and groaned.

“I can’t hear you, slut.” He once pressed hard and it worked perfectly.

“Please, John, please let me come! Please!” John groaned and moved his hips while stroking his cock. Sherlock wailed and bucked up and came wildly. He spurted all over the place and his eyes turned to the back of his head. John watched him and followed suit.  
Sherlock was completely done. He wasn’t able to move when John pulled out too quickly to make it hurt again. He just groaned. He roughly yelled again when he shoved a plug into him to keep the cum inside.

“Listen to me!” Sherlock’s eyes shot open and focused. John pulled his nipples and bit into his chest.

“Tonight, it will be my boyfriend. It will stay by my side until I tell it to go and mingle. They will want to look at it. It will talk to them and dance with them. It will make them talk. If necessary, it will offer its body. Give them what they want but act as mine. Does it understand?”

“Yes, John.” But he looked as if he had a question. John grinned. He had rented the perfect slave, a prime sub.

“What is it, slut? What does it want to ask?”

“Forgive me, John. But you seem to be after something. What kind of questions do you want me to ask? What is it you want to know?”

“Did it study?”

“Yes, John.”

“What?”

“Chemistry, biology, a few semesters medicine.” Now the dom sat up by his side and looked rather interested.

“I think it might even be of better use than I expected.” Suddenly he freed him and pulled him off the bed. Wordlessly he pulled him over the aisles naked and soiled as he was and Sherlock stumbled behind. They ended in an office. There were several whiteboards with formulas written on them.

“Does it understand what I am trying to find?” He was positioned in front of them and he had a look while his arse throbbed, his penis twitched and hurt and he absolutely needed to sit down. But he did look at the boards and soon got it. He made a sound of surprise when he understood. He looked at John.

“The perfect drug to make people compliant.” John grinned proudly.

“God, it is good.” He slowly shook his head.

Sherlock’s eyes roamed through the room. The computer and such were all the newest and most expensive. Sherlock envied this man. If he could have worked with these things, he wouldn’t have ended up using drugs. He would have been busy. He quietly snorted. If only his family would have given him more money. Now he was a slave, a pet, a thing, people could rent and use as a fuck-toy.

He still stared at the board and suddenly found several mistakes. If he corrected these, the drug would be much more efficient. Perhaps he could make a deal with his dom? Help against being bought? He could live here. He would like that, no matter what this dom did to him. Fuck him raw, bullwhip him, perhaps even brand him one day. Everything was better than returning into the stainless-steel room. He shuddered and slung his long arms around his torso.

“Slut?” His head shot up and he fell on his knees.

“I am sorry, Master. John. Please forgive me. I was thinking about the formula.”

“I don’t think so, but I let it go. Go back to its room and take a shower. There will be a nurse to take care of its bleeding wounds and raw throat and also a hairdresser later to make up its hair for tonight. Then get dressed. I will be picking it up when it’s time.”

“Yes, Master. John.” John laughed and leant against his desk.

“Oh, and do the kowtow when leaving. I like looking at my pet like that.” Sherlock robbed backwards to the door and finally left with bleeding knees. By the door, he stood and swayed over the aisle back into his room followed by John’s rough laughter all the time.


	2. Chapter 2

John picked him up when Sherlock looked into the mirror. Their eyes met and Sherlock could see that John approved of what he saw. And Sherlock had to admit John looked fantastic. A beautiful suit bringing out his broad shoulders and muscular chest, the hair had products in it, everything made him look younger but still powerful.

He approached him and Sherlock turned around. John rubbed his hands and grinned broadly.

“This will work out splendidly.” He took his pet’s hand and their fingers entwined. Sherlock’s guts coiled.

“Come on then. And don’t forget. It’s John. Only John.” Sherlock nodded.

“Yes, John.” He nodded and pulled him out of the room. His wrists were chafed open but the nurse had taken care of his wrists, too. They were wrapped in skin-coloured gauze and his shirt arms were long enough to cover everything. His ankles were taken care off, too, and the shoes were wide enough. The stainless-steel cuffs had been taken off and also the pain had stopped after the cream had been applied and gauze had been wrapped around them, too. The cream had numbed both the pain in his wrists and ankles. Sherlock was thankful.

He would show his dom how thankful he was and perform as he wanted. He entered the room together with John and felt a bit awkward because at once people turned to them and gaped. John’s hand rested on his lower back. They exchanged a last look and then parted after John had rudely pushed him forward.

“Off it goes and charm them, fuck them, handle them. It knows what I want.”

“Yes, John.” At once Sherlock started to mingle. John kept watching his new pet while it started to talk to people. He had told him whom he wanted him to approach. And it worked perfectly. Soon enough he had enchanted the right person.

He danced with several people, both men and women, until the public fucking was announced. The crowd became excited when several bound and gagged people were dragged into the room. John stood in front of them and Sherlock shuddered. How easily it could have been him amongst them. He never wanted to go back to the agency. He would do anything to avoid it. Anything.

Guests left their own slaves behind and picked their favourite out of the group of assembled rent-boys and female sex-slaves. Then they just lined up until it was their turn. The person he had approached leant against him. It was an older male who greedily looked at the fucking crowd. Sherlock whispered into his ear.

“I am right here, you know? You don’t need them.” Quickly he turned around and looked into Sherlock’s smiling face.

“You mean …” Sherlock nodded and seductively led him out of the room and into a guest-room. He placed him on the bed and undressed him. He lowered his head and sucked him. Soon the man groaned beneath him and spread his legs. Sherlock pushed two fingers into him and made him come. He swallowed everything and kept finger-fucking him until he screamed. And while the man came down, he took fingerprints on a plastic foil. John had told him how to do it and he successfully did just so. When he was done, the man came again while he kept stroking his prick.

“Oh, fuck, the doctor is such a lucky bloke. Bloody hell …” He got dressed again and Sherlock looked as immaculate as before. He left the room first.

***

He danced with his dom who held him in a tight grip. He slipped the plastic into his suit. John grinned and lightly bit into his jaw.

“Very well done, slut. I am very pleased. Did it have fun?”

“Yes, John. Who’s next?” John grinned broadly.

“Not yet. Now I will fuck it right here. And it will behave like the perfect sub it is.” Sherlock swallowed but lowered his head quickly. The dom pushed him back and clapped his hands to get everyone's attention.

“I’d like to present my new submissive boyfriend. “ The crowd applauded and he closed his eyes just for a few seconds. He had been trained well and knew how to behave properly.

“It will show you all the perfect behaviour of a perfect sub.” He flipped his fingers and Sherlock at once fell on his knees. His hands folded on his nape all by himself and he lowered his gaze. The crowd moved closer around him and his dom stood by his side.  
He once moved around him and stopped in front of him. He shoved his left foot forward and Sherlock fell on hands and knees lowering his head. He slowly and languidly licked it clean. The right foot followed right after. He fell back into position when John flipped his fingers again.

“Present!” John ordered and Sherlock quickly undressed. He folded the clothes neatly by his side and fell into position. The crowd murmured very excitedly and John was proud. It belonged to him.

“Mine!” He just stated and Sherlock did the kowtow.

John was handed a riding-crop and once hit the air. Sherlock knew what was expected and fell into presenting mode again.

“Please, it deserves a punishment for whatever reason you have. You are always right about it. It will gratefully take them all.” John grinned like the sadistic devil he was and stepped up. The first blow hit Sherlock’s back.

“One! Thank you. Please, may it have some more?” John laughed loudly.

“Of course, slut. It may have some more!” And the riding-crop hit him exactly twenty times, crisscrossing the welts and making them bleed.

Sherlock counted the whole time and thanked him profoundly, his voice loud and clear. The crowd cheered and clapped along.

After the twentieth stroke he shoved the riding-crop into his behind and Sherlock was trembling badly. But he held his position.

“Now it may show me how thankful it is to be my sub.” Sherlock knelt straight up again, folded his hands on his nape and opened his trousers alone with his lips and teeth. The people around him envied John who soon face-fucked Sherlock roughly and quickly until saliva and cum were all over Sherlock’s face. But when John finally came, he swallowed everything and cleaned him properly.

“Thank you for providing its dinner.” Several people laughed and giggled.

“Present your cock to my guests, slut. Show them how eager and willing you are.” Sherlock was triggered and his prick grew in size until it hovered straight up into the air and leaked pre-cum.

Then John handed Sherlock a glass with champagne.

“Drink and place it before your slutty cock.” Sherlock obeyed at once.

“Now provide your own drink.” He quietly laughed and Sherlock felt hot and humiliated. The cane still stuck in his arse and he was rock hard. He started to move his hips and clench around the crop. He knew how to trigger himself and soon came into the glass.

The guests cheered and Sherlock panted while he filled the glass.

“Now get dressed again and join your dom.” Sherlock stood up slowly, pushed the cane out, cleaned it and only when all this was done, he took his clothes. He dressed properly and picked up his glass to stand by his dom’s side. His face showed no emotion but he was still a bit red on his cheeks. There was also dried cum and snot on his face.

John placed his palm on his lower back again and led him into a group of people. Sherlock just stood there and sipped his cum out of the glass being watched by these men and women. He looked a bit sweaty but somehow also as immaculate as ever, even though his dress-shirt clung to his back and the blood slowly dried. He was in control of his body.

Lesson learnt.

***

John grabbed him and led him away from the crowd about two hours later.

“Come on. I want you to eat a bit. I don’t want you to faint like before.” Sherlock followed his dom to the large buffet. He had fainted indeed as soon as he had entered his room before. The nurse had found him when she entered his room about an hour later and had taken care of him. She fed him and washed him. He was thankful and she allowed him to eat her cunt after she was done.

“Thank you, John.” He made him sit in on a sofa and a house-slave brought him a plate with several choices of food. Sherlock saw sushi and salmon on it and licked his lips. John was very pleased and calmly watched him eat.

“Eat, pet.” Sherlock finished his meal and looked up.

“May it have some dessert, please?” John just looked at him and then waved for the slave who took the empty plate back. He brought him a bowl with pudding afterwards. Chocolate pudding with berries. Sherlock greedily eyed it.

“Thank you, John.” He ate that, too.

“Very well. Now let’s have a drink, pet.” The slave brought two glasses of champagne. The dom looked at him but said nothing. Sherlock felt weird. Had he made a mistake?

After several minutes the glasses were refilled and he placed his hand on his thigh.

“One last thing to do tonight. See that old hag over there? It will bang her. I need a copy of her mobile. Take this device. Off you pop and be as slutty as possible.” John stood and placed him by her side winking at her. Then he just disappeared into the crowd.

Sherlock smiled at her and she greedily eyed him. He danced with her and suddenly danced into another room. She giggled.

“Oh, young man, you can’t be serious.” Sherlock pulled her close and roughly whispered.

“Oh, but I can. You know everything. You are ripe. You are experienced. Please?” She giggled.

“Yes, to all of that. I want to see you naked.” She sat on a chair and expectantly looked at him. He stripped until he stood there only in his birthday suit. He had to rip off the shirt and his back was bleeding again but he hadn’t shown his pain. No one was interested in his pain anyway. Not the way he would have needed it.

The light was dimmed and only some candles burnt.

“You have such a nice cock. Come over here.” Sherlock approached her and she started to touch him. He had to admit she knew what she was doing. When he was hard, she just lifted up her gown and went over to the bed. Sherlock swallowed. But then he thought of the white-tiled room, the stainless-steel room. He grabbed her by the hips and pushed into her. She didn’t need long until she came. Sherlock was still hard and pulled out. She lifted up her arse and he took it as the invitation it was. She yelled loudly and he pushed her into the cushion. His fingers found the way into her cunt and rubbed her clit until she came again. Only then he came into her backside, too.

She lay absolutely still. He checked her pulse but she was still alive. Naked as he was, he took her purse and found her mobile. He quickly copied it with the help of his dom's device and stuffed it back when she started to groan. He threw his body on the bed and looked at her when she woke.

“You fucked me into oblivion. Dr Watson is such a lucky bloke to have found you, dear. But he needs to feed you better. You are too skinny.” She slapped his bum and he grinned. Then he kissed her and helped her up and also with getting dressed. He got dressed while she left the room already.

He hurried into the bath and washed his hands and face. He washed his prick very thorough. Suddenly there was his dom.

“Slut?” He was towelling his cock when answering.

“In the bathroom, John. I hurry up. I am sorry.” But he just entered and leant against the frame watching him dress up again. Finally, he asked:

“Got it?” Sherlock nodded and reached into his trousers.

“Yes.” He handed it over and his dom took it.

“Very well done. I am very pleased with it.” He pulled him back into the salon where his dom danced with him again.

Sherlock was able to see bloodstains and blood smeared on people and furniture. He felt sick. But better them than him. He wanted to live. And if he could gain power through John, maybe even stay with him, he would be able to take revenge on his bloody family who left him alone.

***

Hours later Sherlock felt totally exhausted. But he stayed by John’s side. He needed to please him. And John seemed to appreciate his efforts.

After the last guest had gone, John leant against the door and closed his eyes. He rubbed his forehead and quietly groaned. Sherlock stepped up.

“May it help you with a massage?” John opened one eye.

“My room.” They walked upstairs and Sherlock shed his clothes at once. He helped John undress and found some oil on his night-stand. Gently he rubbed it into his skin and moved over his forehead in tiny circles. John relaxed beneath him and sighed.

“Down there, too.” Sherlock used the oil on his prick and stroked him slowly.

“Yes, Master.” John grinned smugly.

“I am absolutely pleased with its performance tonight. It worked better than expected. It will be rewarded.” Sherlock gave everything he could and John came into his mouth. He had lowered his head when noticing John was ready.

“I want it to stay in here tonight.”

“Yes, Master.” Then Sherlock got surprised. John just pulled up the duvet and rolled on his side facing him. Sherlock had no idea what was expected of him now. They locked eyes and John whispered:

“It looked at the formula and it noticed something. I don’t want it to hold back. Tell me what it found. If it can do it better, it will do it.” Then he just closed his eyes and placed his palm on Sherlock’s waist. Sherlock moved closer and tried to sleep, as well. The warm hand helped and he fell asleep.

***

John woke because soft hair tickled his nose. He opened his eyes and found his new submissive close by. He liked that a lot and pulled the taller body close. He mumbled something in his sleep but didn’t wake. John looked at him.

“It is such a beauty and a treasure. I really would like to keep it. I need a new slave anyway. But it is more than just a slave to fuck bloody. It is smart, intelligent. I can use it for my work. It is well educated and I wonder how it ended up with the slave agency.” He sighed and closed his eyes. He moved closer and fell asleep again.

Sherlock woke because something was in his hair and pulled at his locks. He opened his eyes and found his dom very close, almost too close for comfort. But he was asleep. Only his fingers were moving through his hair but he wasn’t aware of it. Sherlock didn’t move but enjoyed. This felt nice. It didn’t hurt. He embraced his dom’s strong body and held him. He couldn’t sleep but it didn’t matter. He felt good. He didn’t hurt. He thought about strategy.

Lesson learnt.

***

When John woke, he felt extremely well and warm. He smelled a body and felt soft, warm skin. His pet. He was held by it. But it wasn’t restraining him in any way, it just held him to its body. John had to admit to himself that it felt good. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else though.

He would keep it and fuck it as long as he could. He still wondered if he should buy it. It would be worth it. And he mustn’t kill it, it was a brilliant scientist and a fucking good spy. John grinned and opened his eyes. Sherlock looked at him and he stilled.

“Do me.” Sherlock moved under the duvet. He gave him the perfect blow-job and swallowed everything. John fisted his hair and pulled. He yelled obscenities when he came. Sherlock waited for more orders. John pulled the blanket off his body and licked his lips.

“Kneel and ride my cock.” Sherlock pulled his cock until it was hard again and lowered himself down. His behind was sore and hurt but he forced his body down. He needed to please him no matter what the costs were. He rode him for a while and when he was close, John stopped him.

“Off!” Sherlock knelt upright letting him slide out. It burnt like hellfire. John slowly stroked himself and his massive cock was hovering in the air.

“Proceed!” Sherlock again lowered himself on his dom’s massive cock. He rode him with wild abandon. His insides felt like the day loads of ginger had been shoved into him as a punishment.

“Hands on your nape.” Sherlock did that, too, and his slim body stretched. John enjoyed the view on his six-pack while his pet moved up and down. John reached out for his cock and held it. He pressed its flesh making Sherlock yell above him. He tweaked his testicles until tears fell out of his eyes. He reached up and slapped his face several times but Sherlock just clenched around him and rode him wildly until his dom came. A grinning John held him back.

“Listen. I enjoy its company. I think it will be very useful for me in the future. I want to keep it. I want to keep it and I want to fuck it any time I see fit.” Sherlock felt his prick going limp inside and his fluids ran out of his arse.

“I believe it will be very expensive. I also believe it will be worth it. I know it is fantastic in bed. I still need to know about its skills in experiments, in my laboratory. I will show it some formulas and then it will tell me what’s wrong with them. And you also still have to tell me what you saw, the error. I know you have found something. Tell me and you'll get a reward.” Sherlock just nodded while still being held. He panted and sweated.

“I have the kind of evenings it attended regularly. It will attend them with me, both here and at other places.”

“Yes, Master. John. I understand.” John nodded and tweaked its nipple with his free hand. Sherlock yelped.

“I want it to stay. Stay as a slave for as long as I see it fit. Which will probably be forever.” John looked expectantly up at him.

Very carefully Sherlock rested his palms on John’s torso.

“Master. John. It very much would like to stay. Please, feel free to do everything you want with it but let it stay. It’ll help with your experiments and improve your formulas. It never wants to go back. Please, don’t make it go back.” He lowered his head and kissed his chest. John growled and pressed Sherlock against his body.

“I’ll arrange everything. Are there any things left behind it wants to have?” Sherlock looked away.

“It owns nothing.”

“No worries, pet. I’ll take care of everything. Tonight, we’ll celebrate.” He threw him off his body and got up.

“Get ready. I’ll have someone bring clothes. It may roam around the place if it likes, but it doesn’t go outside. I’ll show it everything later.”

“Thank you. Master. John.” He turned around again and pressed a kiss on his lips fisting his hair. Then he left.

***

Sherlock never saw the stainless-steel room again or even the people who handled him there. John bought him and never mentioned any sum of money. Sherlock was as happy as one could be in his situation.

He was allowed to move freely inside the house. He was given tasks in the lab.

One day he was caught by John staring longingly out of the window when someone rode a horse over the lawn. He sneaked up close to him and suddenly grabbed his plush arse. Sherlock almost jumped on the spot.

“What is it staring at?” Sherlock swallowed and hesitated.

“It is sorry. It looked at the horse. Please, forgive it.” Now his arse got groped and he relaxed a bit.

“It used to ride?” Sherlock nodded.

“Yes. It used to have horses at home.” Suddenly John laughed wickedly and grabbed him tighter.

“I am thinking about pony-play.” Sherlock slowly exhaled and closed his eyes. He had been trained at the slave agency. He knew about pony-play. He could do it. He would do it, do anything to please his Master.

John looked up at him and gnawed on his lips.

“I want it right now. Stables!” Sherlock followed John outside and was pushed into a box. The two men who worked there didn’t even react. They were used to slaves everywhere. They didn’t mind. They weren’t slaves. They were well-paid workers and wouldn’t ever breathe a word about what happened here outside this place.

“Get naked.” John ordered and Sherlock quickly obeyed. All the equipment hung neatly on the wooden wall and John dressed him into a harness. He connected the head-harness and pulled it over. The bit was pulled tight and the rings pressed into his flesh. There were even blinkers.

But John topped it when tightening little bells around his nipples and a feather on top of the head. Sherlock blushed and John smiled smugly looking him up and down.

“Arms.” Sherlock stretched out his arms and mittens were pulled up. He found him fitting boots with horseshoes underneath. John pointed down and Sherlock at once fell on hands and knees.

Out of his eyes he saw the top of a riding-crop. The next moment it connected with his back and arse. He screamed and soon cried. His dom never held back. He knew he would be having loads of scars. Some welts never really healed because it took too long until he or a nurse would be able to take care of the wounds. After several lashes he connected a wide leather band to both his head- and body-harness and his head was forced up.

And he knew what would be next and he was right. A plug was pushed inside his arse making him yell again and his arms almost broke his hold but he managed. Attached to the plug was a horse-tail and the hair brushed against his thighs. It was attached to the harness, too, and so were his arms on his back.

John once walked around him and nodded very pleased.

“I know about the training it had. Get up and move.” Sherlock stood, pulled up his legs and fell into a trot. The bells jingled. John followed him up to a fenced place. He hooked a rope into the metal on his cheek and made him run in circles. He pushed him to run faster and faster by whipping him with a long wicked thing. And Sherlock ran. He stumbled and fell only once and rolled over into the dirt and mud but John hit him hard and he got up again quickly. He kept running in circles for a very long time until John got bored and dropped the leash and whip.

“I need to work now. It will stay outside for a bit. Perhaps the rain will wash away the dirt. Someone will pick it up later.” John left and Sherlock’s eyes followed him. Only when he was gone, he closed his eyes and allowed his body to relax. He leant against the fence because he was a horse and wasn’t supposed to rest on the ground. At the slave agency, he had been told that horses resting on the ground were shot.

His long legs were trembling and he was exhausted. He was in pain.

***

He dreamed away and woke when someone poked him. He stood straight at once and lowered his head. It was his dom again.

“I got bored and will pick it up myself.” Sherlock slowly straightened his body. He was close to tears and it obviously showed.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Is it upset?” He only mocked him and Sherlock shook his head but had to fight not to sob.

“Don’t be difficult.” Sherlock tried to calm down and while being pulled back into the stable, he somehow managed. He feared the consequences of difficult behaviour.

Back in the box John got everything off of him except for the bells on his nipples and the horse-tail plug. Sherlock couldn’t help it by now, he swayed on the spot and let out a quiet wailing sound.

John slapped his face. Hard. Twice. It woke him up and he stood straight and motionless again.

“What’s wrong with it? I told it to eat more. It isn’t strong enough. This needs to change.” He moved him to the far end of the stable and made him lean against the wall. He took a hose and washed him. The water was cold and Sherlock shivered and shuddered until he was clean again.

John threw him a rough blanket and left. Sherlock just followed him inside. In front of his room John said:

“Clean yourself up. I want it to look nice when it comes downstairs for dinner. Half an hour.” He snatched the blanket from his naked body and pushed him inside.

Sherlock swayed directly into the bath and showered with hot water. He washed his body and hair, extracted the wicked plug, and washed it, too. He placed the bells on the cupboard.

His vision was blurry and he felt sick again. He drank some water directly from the tap but it didn’t get better. He really needed to eat. With trembling hands, he took some nice clothes and dressed. He was ready just on time when John dashed inside. He looked him up and down and then slanted his eyes.

“It looks weak.” Sherlock cast his eyes and pulled himself together, collected his left-over strength. John just grabbed his arm and pulled him along into the dining room.

“Sit.” Sherlock sat by his side and folded his trembling hands on his lap. He smelled food. Oh God, he needed to eat. He was so hungry. He stared at the beef and bowls with potatoes and mushrooms and creamy sauce. His stomach rumbled.

“Eat slowly but eat. Go on and take what it likes.” Sherlock forced his trembling hands to place the food on his plate. Then he waited for his dom who poured them wine and water. He only started to eat when he did. But then he slowly ate piece after piece until he was done.

He felt so much better. He was thankful. He was even handed a brandy which he gratefully took. John didn’t speak until a servant brought dessert. It smelled like cinnamon and had berries in it. And cream. John moved the bowl over the table towards Sherlock.

“Eat.” Sherlock ate it. Loads of calories but he liked it. He felt stuffed but he knew he needed to eat. And if his dom wanted him to eat more and gain weight, he would do just so.

After dinner, John stood and looked at Sherlock.

“Come and sit with me.” He walked him over to the sofa and sat down with him. He pulled him close and placed Sherlock’s head against his shoulder. He felt him relax and hotly breathe on his body. He leant against the backrest and closed his eyes. His fingers were in his curls and pulled at some strands.

“Listen. It mustn’t lose its strength or faint while I am doing it. I don’t like it. The punishment would be severe. Also, it needs brain-power to solve my formula and spy for me. That’s why I set up a training schedule for it. It will have its own personal trainer.” 

Sherlock just stared at him. Then it overpowered him. He was so thankful for everything. This man, his dom, had freed him from the white-tiled room with the stainless-steel tiles. He must do everything he wanted. Everything. He mustn’t disappoint him.

“Thank you, Master. John.” He carefully took his hand and kissed it. John placed him against his body and Sherlock settled against it. It looked a bit weird because the dom was shorter than him but he didn’t mind. He had gotten used to him. He was his dom. He had bought him and now he fed him, lived with him, and took care of him. Sherlock was thankful.

He really was.


	3. Chapter 3

That night John lay alone in his bed. He had sent Sherlock to bed earlier because he wanted to be alone. Sherlock had looked confused and then worried. But he hadn’t said a word.

John tried to analyse his feelings for his slave. Even though sometimes it didn’t feel like a slave anymore. OK, he had bought it but somehow it was different. He sighed. He was even referring to it as _him_ sometimes.

Fuck.

He became too attached but he didn’t want to let go. It also was fucking smart and a good partner in crime. Also, in bed.

Suddenly his mobile buzzed. He reached out and looked at the display. He read the message twice and then he threw his mobile on the duvet and sighed.

***

Sherlock slept peacefully in his bed all alone which was a rather rare experience lately. But he absolutely enjoyed it. He had sprawled all over the mattress. He stretched his body like a cat and yawned strongly. He wanted coffee and croissants. Lazily he rolled over and got out of bed.

He looked into the large mirror in the bathroom. His collar and the cuffs around wrists and ankles were on. Sherlock was used to it. But now it itched under the metal and he scratched his skin. His skin was red and seemed to be inflamed. He had to show it to his dom. Lately, John had told him to do so because he wanted him unharmed. The wrists were too obvious, out in the open to see for others when he took him places. Which he intended to do in the near future or so he had told Sherlock.

He showered and dressed in a pair of jeans and a tee and also sneakers. He dried his hair and bound it back. He knew John preferred it like this.

Outside his room he listened but couldn’t hear him. Perhaps he was still sleeping but he knew he was allowed to go downstairs and have breakfast.

And he wasn’t there. Sherlock drank coffee and ate two croissants with jam and cheese. He licked his lips and thought about his life. It wasn’t too bad. He got fed and bathed, so to say.

Of course, John still handled him roughly but that was all fine. He sometimes even enjoyed it when John let him come and didn’t hit or whip him too badly. He took care of him. No one ever had. He sighed and had more coffee when a house-slave entered the room and brought a parcel.

“Master said to give it to you. Master said you knew what to do with it.” Sherlock took the parcel and the slave disappeared all quietly into thin air. He opened it and found a pair of high-heels, an evening-gown, and some jewellery. He swallowed. Oh God, he knew what that meant. There would be a dinner-party and John wanted to show him off.

***

John had finally wandered down and looked out of the window. He saw that it had had his breakfast already. He summoned the house-slave and asked how much it had eaten. Well, he was pleased with the information. He obeyed. And he had carried the parcel upstairs. John ate several rolls and drank coffee. He had some scrambled eggs, too, and finally decided to go and have a look. He was fairly sure that it tried it on right now.

He grinned. He would take advantage of it. He was hard already when only thinking about his body clad in that gown. Perhaps it needed a corset, too.

John quietly moved upstairs and found its door open. He heard the rustling of the fabric and stepped closer. It didn’t hear him. He had shaken out the gown and was trying to climb into it. John cleared his throat when he was balancing on one leg and he almost fell.

John laughed.

Sherlock managed not to step on the fabric but climb into it. He pulled it up and stuck his long arms through the holders. He managed to grab the zip on his back but wasn’t able to close it all the way.

“Oh, it needs its Master's help. Hold still.” Sherlock’s arms fell to the side and John pulled the zip all the way up. The dress fit perfectly.

“Stockings?” Sherlock looked hectically.

“Weren’t there any?”

“No, Master. There weren’t any stockings.”

“Well, there will be tonight. Then the shoes.” They were the perfect fit, too. John was very pleased.

“Open your hair.” Sherlock loosened his hair which had grown over the time he had been living here. John greedily looked at him.

“Bend over that table.” Sherlock lowered his body. John took the garment and lifted it up.

“Hold it. I don’t want it to get dirty when I come.” Sherlock tightly held the fabric in his hands on his back. It was heavy and standing on that high-heels wasn’t easy, too.

John started to slap him. Flat-handed he slapped his cheeks until they were feeling hot. They also burnt. His cock hung freely between his legs but the moment when John started to touch and fuck him, he became hard. The moment he was triggered, he became hard.

Lesson learnt.

The table was pushed forward with John’s heavy moves. Sherlock cried and yelled and screamed. He would be sore for the rest of his life. He never had the chance to recover.

John fucked him hard and pulled his hair. The skin on his skull prickled and tears fell out of his eyes. Skin slapped on skin and John groaned. Then he came.

“Make sure to hold on to it.” He roughly whispered into his ear and pressed him down on his knees. He shoved his slick cock into his mouth and Sherlock sucked him clean. He also sucked him into another orgasm. By now he knew what his dom liked best and he acted after it. His longish hair fell over his face and he sucked deeply with a lot of pressure from his lips. John groaned soon enough and pushed deep down his throat.

He worked him over for almost half an hour until he made him come deep down his throat. John groaned loudly. Sherlock cleaned his prick and knelt up straight. He still had the high-heels on his feet. They looked into each other’s eyes. John licked his lips.

“It is a whore, nothing but a slut.” Sherlock looked away. John pulled his hair.

“Tonight, I will have it wear make-up. It’s whorish. I like it.” Sherlock looked at him again but didn’t smile.

“Something is wrong. Did it do something wrong?” Sherlock asked worriedly.

“Oh, it is good. And no, it didn’t do anything wrong. But it is right, something is wrong. We need to talk.” He stood and pulled Sherlock up, too. They walked into the living room and before they sat on the sofa, John placed the blanket on it because his cum leaked out of his pet. Sherlock just waited.

“It’ll do whatever is necessary.” Sherlock tried to ensure his dom of its best intentions the moment he had been allowed to sit. John grabbed him hard by the shoulders.

“No. He won’t ever touch it. I am not allowing it. It is mine!” Sherlock was surprised. John grabbed him so hard it hurt, but he didn’t say anything. Sherlock just looked at John. He couldn’t understand this reaction.

“I was a bit worried. No, wrong, I am a lot worried because my business associate will be coming over tonight. He knows that I bought a new slave. Normally, I would let him try it out. But you are too pricey an object, I can’t risk any damage. It will meet him though for dinner but I won’t let him alone with it. It won’t listen to anything he tells it.” Sherlock wondered what more damage could be done to him but didn’t show any emotion on his face.

“No, Master. John. It only listens to Master. John.” John smiled very thinly.

“I will brief it. It needs to know how to act around him.” Now John leant back into the sofa.

“It is my slave. It already knows how to behave around me. He will be in this evening for dinner, during the night and several hours tomorrow morning. He probably wants to watch me handling it, so there will be a scene.”

“It will do anything you want, Master. John.” John suddenly pulled him close and kissed him forcefully with lots of bites. Sherlock’s arms waved through the air and fell down after a few seconds.

John pressed him on the sofa and bit into his jaw. He moved his palm over his chest and beneath the dress. He also rubbed over his groin. Then he huskily whispered:

“Upstairs. My room. Now.” He pulled him up and Sherlock moved. But he stopped when John didn’t follow.

“Go ahead and prepare yourself. I’ll need a few minutes. Up it goes!” Sherlock ran upstairs as fast as he could with these shoes and into John’s room. He lifted up the dress and lubed his fingers. He opened up his arse and took a plug. He also got a cock-ring. He placed several other items on the bed for John to choose from. Then he got on his knees and waited for his Master. John.

He was still wearing the dress and high-heels.

***

John in the meantime spoke to his chief of security and gave instructions regarding his associate. They weren’t nice but they were clear. He needed to protect it. They were to shoot his partner in crime when he approached it or touched it without John being around.

Only then he walked upstairs. He saw it kneeling on the hardwood with the dress draped around him. His hair was still open and his hands were folded on his nape beneath it. Simply perfect.

John licked his lips and rubbed over his groin.

“Get out of the dress and hang it up nicely. The shoes, too.” Sherlock quickly obeyed. John hummed.

“Very good. You have plugged yourself and used a cock-ring. You are such a good pet. Now, lean against the post.” John wanted to tie him to it but first took the cuffs off. Then he raised a brow and had a closer look at both his wrists and ankles.

“Nurse didn't tell me about this.” He looked up at Sherlock.

“Listen to me, pet. From now on you will tell me about something like this. It seems I need to hire a new nurse. These marks are too exposed to take you out in public. I don't like it.” Sherlock tensed.

“Don't worry, pet. It is not its fault.” Next, he took care of Sherlock himself. He cleaned and disinfected his skin and bandaged him. Then he tied him to the post but used arms and elbows as well as knees and thighs to not use pressure on the injured parts. He pulled out the plug and took off the cock-ring. He blindfolded him but didn't gag him. Instead, he did nothing.

Sherlock was caught in the dark and wondered what was going on.

“I want to see it come, pet.” John only gave the one order but Sherlock had nothing in his arse and he wasn't touched either. But he had been taught how to trigger himself and please his Masters and Mistresses.

He managed to bring his cock up. It hovered in the air, long and lean like his whole body. John watched him when he started to slowly move his hips. He leant his head against the post and licked his lips.

John started to sweat. This was insanely hot.

Soon enough its prick started to leak and twitch. It also started to pant and breathe harder.

John's cock was pressing against his jeans but he didn't do anything about it. He didn't want to make a noise. He only wanted to watch it coming.

It took his best pet ever some more minutes until he groaned and spurted his cum all over the place. John was bloody impressed. He also was very pleased and only now freed his cock. He hooked one of its legs up and over the bed's frame. He grabbed it and lifted it on his cock. He pressed its naked and thin body against the post and fucked him hard. It didn't take long until he came and when he came, he pressed his lips on its and kept fucking it with his tongue.

Sherlock groaned and shivered. His dome rubbed over his prostate and it was intentional. He was rewarding him. This was a rare thing and it made him come again. He spilt all over his dom's body and moaned.

His dom freed him and took off the blindfold. Sherlock blinked and focused on his Master. His legs shook and he still leant against the post. His spine was still tingling and he could come again on the spot if he would be told. His lips stood open and he panted quietly.

“Fucking amazing...” John said and put his prick back into his trousers. He looked at his slave.

“You made quite the mess but I don't mind. It was worth it. I have people to clean the place. I want it to shower and dress. Come downstairs afterwards.”

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock bowed and wanted to get on hands and knees to crawl away but John stopped him.

“No need, pet. Just go and hurry.” Sherlock took the given opportunity and quickly left for his shower.

Half an hour later he found his dom in the living room. He looked up at him and pointed between his spread legs. Sherlock knelt between them and his hands moved up. John though took them and placed them on his thighs.

“Listen to me, pet. My associate will arrive in about an hour and will stay until tomorrow. As I have already told you, we will be having a scene. I really need to make him feel good and relaxed. It doesn't mean I am going to give it to him. This won't happen. But since I know what he likes, he might wish for something it hasn't yet done. It needs to be prepared for the weirdest wishes. I promise it no real harm will be done. I need it relaxed and calm around him.” John exhaled and his fingers found the way into its hair.

“He is Russian. It said you spoke Russian. Do I remember that correctly?”

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock confirmed.

“Just perfect. Do not show your skills. I want you to listen to what he says when he is on the phone or muttering to himself. He always does that in Russian.” John pulled a face.

“He won't be disturbed or irritated by its presence. It is just a piece of furniture to him. It is simply a thing to use.” Sherlock swallowed. He had known that already.

“But not to me it is.” This surprised Sherlock and he dared to look up and into his eyes. Quickly he lowered his gaze again when John said nothing more.

“Do not exaggerate, pet.” Sherlock shook his head.

“No, Master. I am sorry, Master.”

“Anyway, I had the gown dry-cleaned and brought into its room. Get freshened up and dress into everything. But first I want it to eat something tasty because it won't attend our dinner. Perhaps he will throw some bits and pieces over to it but it won't take it. It only takes food from me.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Well, get up. It needs to eat.” Sherlock was quite a bit worried about tonight. But his dom had promised to protect him. He had endured so many things. What had been done to him, had changed him. He would manage and proof his usefulness to his dom.

He ate and drank a lot until he was sent upstairs again. He showered and dressed in stockings, gown, and heels. His dom had said something about make-up but nothing had been provided.

Suddenly the door opened and his dom appeared.

“Change of plans, pet. Even though it looks lovely, I decided not to show it off like this. It will be wearing this gown only for my pleasure. Tonight, it will wear these.” He placed white scrubs on the table and Sherlock swallowed. The colour made him feel a bit sick because it reminded him of the stainless-steel room with the white tiles.

Quickly he changed and his dom took care of his longish hair by himself. He twirled his wrist several times and shoved a pencil through the knot. Then he looked very pleased.

“Oh, I like this look, too...” He licked his lips and Sherlock felt weird again.

He joined his dom in the library where he placed a black leather collar around his neck. It was padded and soft on the insides but rather heavy.

“Very good. Remember now, do not speak to him. Do not react to any of his orders. Be quiet and stay by my side.”

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock nodded and felt the heavy leather around his neck. John looked at him licking his lips. He slowly stepped up and hooked his finger through the ring. He pulled him down and kissed him. And he kissed him slowly and languidly. Sherlock’s eyes fluttered close and he melted. He softly moaned and his dom let go.

“Keep the mood, pet.” He roughly whispered and Sherlock licked his lips.

“Yes, Master.” They heard the door-bell and a female slave opened. They heard her scream and John just shook his head. Sherlock tensed but still felt rather safe with him.

Soon enough the door to the library was opened by the slave. Her hair was in disarray, her dress was torn and her face was bruised.

“Sir, your visitor is here.” Her voice shook and John gestured for her to leave. Quickly she disappeared.

John stood and made a few steps towards him.

“Sergej, what brings you here?” John asked. It wasn't a warm welcome, Sherlock thought.

“We need to talk about the Russian business. Plus, I have heard rumours about your new slave. Is that it?” He pointed at Sherlock and quickly walked closer. John followed.

“Yes, that's it. And it is mine to use only.” Sergej looked rather disappointed.

“But you have always allowed me to use your favourite slave!” He complained.

“Yes, I have but not with it. It has been too expensive to be harmed by you.” Sergej tilted his head.

“But you will surely grant me a scene?” He asked and John nodded.

“Yes, sure. But first, we shall have dinner.” They walked out of the library and Sherlock followed crawling behind. They reached the dining room and sat down.

“Settle by the fire-place.” John ordered and Sherlock quickly heeled close to the fire. He enjoyed it. It was warm. And John had positioned both him and his visitor strategically because from here Sherlock would be able to hear every word he said.

Suddenly his head was hit by a piece of meat. It fell down on his scrubs and smudged it. Sherlock didn't move or even picked it up. He suppressed any reaction.

“Oh, isn't it hungry?” Sergej asked again sounding disappointed.

“It simply knows who its Master is, my friend.” John smiled politely but to Sherlock, it looked dangerous. Sergej though didn't notice. He seemed to be a simple brute with lots of money.

John suddenly offered champagne and Sergej nodded.

“I'll get it myself. The kitchen-slaves are not allowed inside my wine-cellar and fridge. They break too much of the expensive stuff and punishing them all the time makes me so tired.” John even looked exhausted saying it and Sergej heartily laughed.

John disappeared and Sherlock stared into the flames. Sergej pulled out a mobile and wiped over the display. Soon enough he spoke quickly and quietly in Russian. Sherlock understood everything. It was quite an interesting conversation and he would soon tell his Master about it.

John returned with a bottle of champagne and found Sergej eating some more meat.

“There you are again.” John poured the expensive champagne into flutes and sat back down.

“I hope you weren't bored while I was gone?” He asked sipping.

“No, I was looking at your beautiful pet over there and thinking about a scene for later.” John raised a brow.

“And what do you have in mind?” John asked and Sherlock perked up his ears.

“Since you have disappointed me quite a bit with not allowing me to touch it, I want you to do something with it that you actually don't like.” Sergej said grinning smugly. John sighed but only inwardly.

“What do you wish for? Just tell me so we can get over with it.” Sergej leant forward.

“I want baby-play. The absolute baby-play.” Sherlock could see his dom pale and he wondered why. To him this was nothing. He had been taught baby-play, too. He had been wearing nappies and pacifier. He had soiled himself while being tied to a crib. He could do it without problems.

He knew though he had to help his dom going through the motions. Distract Sergej with his actions.

“You shall have it.” John downed his champagne and stood. Sergej followed suit.

“Follow me, pet. Sergej, please wait up here for a minute. I want to prepare everything to your likings and you know I don't like to be watched while preparing a scene.” He seriously looked at him and the Russian nodded and sat back down. Sherlock crawled over to his dom and quickly followed him. He didn't speak while he was led into the basement. He hadn't yet been down there and he wondered what he would find.

There were several rooms in the basement and John only opened one of them. Behind the door, there was a fully equipped baby-room.

“Get naked and on the carpet.” John ordered and Sherlock instantly obeyed. John put a diaper on him and a hamper above it. He was fully covered and the zip was closed on his neck. The collar was taken off, too. He shoved a huge pacifier-gag into his mouth and tied it tightly. He even got a baby-hat that was closed at the side of his neck. He had soft mittens over his hands.

He locked eyes with him.

“Nothing bad will happen to you, do you hear me?” John said and Sherlock nodded. John sighed and motioned to the crib. Sherlock climbed inside and got on his back. He actually wondered why his dom ensured him about that. He had done much worse to him and never minded it.

“Stay.” Sherlock settled and John went to get Sergej. He hadn't even asked if something had happened while he was gone. Sherlock was a bit disappointed but perhaps his dom's mind was elsewhere because of this. Sherlock had clearly seen that he didn't like it at all.

It didn't take long for the two men to come back. Sergej clapped his hands and clearly enjoyed the sight. Then he leant against the wall and waited for the scene to begin.

***

Sherlock knew how baby-play had to work and he simply started to make baby-noises, waved his arms and legs around and gurgled from behind the gag. For just a second his dom looked surprised but then a tiny smile pulled his lips up. Soon his arms and legs got tied to the crib's bars. His master lifted up a finger and he stilled. A funnel got screwed to his gag. Sherlock had already seen it was a special gag.

The Russian crept closer and John allowed it. Sergej knew by now he wasn't allowed to participate but he was allowed to watch everything from a short distance.

John poured a bottle of coke and apple-juice through the funnel and into Sherlock. He had been trained perfectly and managed to swallow everything without coughing up or choking. His eyes were focused on the bottles only.

Afterwards his dom took the funnel off and rubbed over his swollen belly. Sherlock again made noises and finally belched several times very loudly from behind the gag. It made Sergej laugh and even John's face showed a small grin.

He turned him on his front and Sherlock just pulled his legs under making his arse come up. His wrists got again tied to the bars and so were his ankles. The back of his hamper had buttons and a zip. John opened it and shoved it up and down to make the huge diaper visible to them.

Sherlock’s face was turned towards the two men towering above him. He continued to make baby-noises and shifted a lot over the mattress. He also wiggled his behind and did more gurgling and belching.

John lifted down the side of the crib and started to hit Sherlock on his arse. He used a paddle and Sherlock screamed his lungs out making tears flow even though he almost didn't feel it at all due to the diaper.

Soon after John made him come out and sit on the ground on a blanket. His long legs were spread and he was holding a rattle. He wildly sucked on the pacifier and shook the rattle like a maniac.

Sherlock could see that Sergej was extremely aroused and hard. The bulge showed clearly and his Master would probably have to give him one of the house-slaves.

The effect of the drinks and the added laxative was fast. Sherlock tensed and whined. He dropped the rattle and got on his hands and knees. Both men watched him now.

He closed his eyes and cried when cramps shook him. He relaxed his body and let go. He filled the diaper and panted behind the pacifier-gag. He fell on his side when he was done. It felt awful and he was sweaty inside the hamper.

Sergej stared at him and then walked once around him.

“Did it come?” He asked looking at John.

“No, but I can make him if you want?” Sergej nodded quickly and John looked down and into Sherlock’s eyes. And he kept going. He rolled on his front and rubbed over the ground. He wailed and whimpered and grabbed the rattle again. His cock soon showed under the diaper when it grew and the tip almost breached the rubber hem.

Again, they locked eyes and Sherlock started to hump the ground. Hard. Until he groaned and came. It was obvious he came and added his cum to everything else already inside the diaper.

He rested panting on the ground and Sergej was rubbing over his groin.

“This was amazing! You are a very happy man, John! Let's get it to bed and have a few more drinks. We can talk tomorrow morning.” He watched John binding it back to the crib. He switched off the light and closed the door.

John knew he could safely leave him behind. Nothing would happen to him in there.

He had some more drinks with his guest until he wanted to fuck someone. John showed him a guest-room far away from his or his pet's room. He sent up a male slave who would be able to bear what Sergej dished out.

Only when he heard the whip crack and the slave scream, he walked back downstairs to get it back. It needed to be cleaned. And he wanted it in his bed. The scene had gotten to him. He hated baby-play and Sergej had known it.

He opened the door and switched the light back on. He looked at it and its eyes were half-closed. It was exhausted.

“It has been perfect for me and will be rewarded. But first it needs to get out of here.” Sherlock was moved into a bathroom down here and showered. He didn't like the bath because it had white tiles. It was white.

John saw that it didn't like the bath. Normally it enjoyed getting cleaned up, showered, or bathed but now Its body was tense and it shook. John rubbed a towel over his skin and covered him with a bathrobe. He walked him upstairs and into his bedroom.

The moment it left the bath behind it walked faster. John didn't mind. He wanted to go to bed, too.

Sherlock’s eyes were unfocused by now and his eyes drooped. He swayed on the spot but kept himself upright.

John got him out of the bathrobe and pointed over to the bed. Sherlock turned around and crept into it. John followed suit but locked the door before. He pulled up the blanket over both of them and then pulled it close.

It exhaled and was gone. John looked a bit closer and only now took his pulse. It was weak but beating steadily.

He sighed and nuzzled into his longish hair. He soon fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock slept through the night without being disturbed. He only woke when his dom started to move by his side. He blinked his eyes open and found him sitting against the headrest. At once John's hand came up and held on to his hair. He rubbed over his scalp and then even smiled.

“It was wonderful last night. Its performance was brilliant. Now I need to know if Sergej was on the phone and what he talked about.” And Sherlock told him everything. The name of the person he talked to as well as the topic of the conversation. His Master's eyes darkened with anger and the grip in his hair became tighter.

Sherlock made himself as small as possible, barely breathed anymore and stopped talking. He wished he could make himself invisible.

It took his dom a few minutes to come back to himself and he focused back on it. His hand relaxed.

“It was great. Very good intel. Wipe that scared expression off its face, please? There is no reason.” But he kept staring into Sherlock’s eyes. And he clearly felt it. Something had changed between him and it. Him. Sherlock.

It surely wasn't love or anything the like. But he was impressed by what he had done yesterday. He was an intelligent being and could be extremely useful. He decided to treat it a bit better from now on.

The first thing he would change would be to call him by his name and stop calling him _it_.

He took his hand and held it between his smaller ones.

“Now, listen to me. Sherlock.” His name from his Master's lips made him look up. His eyes were wide open and he had a curious expression on his beautiful face.

“Your performance has been excellent. You must have noticed how I hated it but you saved the situation. Sergej was fascinated and not suspicious at all. Your intelligence will help me a lot in this matter. I am not only very pleased with you. I am actually proud. It is a weird feeling.” Now his Master even shrugged and looked quite a bit helpless.

“I am happy I could be of use, Master.” Sherlock had no idea what else to say.

“You may call me simply John in private and leave the honorific. I'd appreciate it.” Now Sherlock really was surprised.

“Yes, John.” He smiled a tiny bit and relaxed further. John kept holding his hand and thought about his messed-up situation with Sergej. Perhaps he should talk to Sherlock about it during dinner tonight. He surely had an idea how to cope with it. He was smart and intelligent. But then he needed to tell him about his several businesses, his crimes and where all the money came from. But would it matter? He still was his bought slave after all.

John decided it didn't matter.

“Get ready for the day but don't show up downstairs. I will have breakfast with Sergej and see him out. You stay away from him. I'll have sent something up for you.” Sherlock rolled out of bed, at least he wanted but John held him tight.  
They locked eyes again and John pulled him closer. Then he kissed him. It wasn't long but it was intense.  
Afterwards, he pushed him off.

“Go away now.” Sherlock quickly left and got showered and dressed. Then he sat on his bed and waited for his Master. John. And breakfast. He was very hungry.

***

John found Sergej already having breakfast. He still looked high and turned his head when John entered.

“There you are, my friend. Good morning!” He was loud and sort of happy. John put on his game-face and took some scrambled eggs.

“Did you enjoy my gift for the night?” John politely asked. Sergej shrugged.

“Well, yes. He might need to see a doctor though.” He quietly laughed and John sighed. He would take care of the man himself.

“We are clear about the business-relations with Colombia?” John asked looking up at him. He saw him swallow.

“Sure. We are very clear.” John nodded.

“I'll expect the contract being sent to me by the end of this week.” John raised a brow and Sergej quickly nodded.

“Yes, John. Of course. By the end of this week.” His smile was a bit strained but John simply smiled and ate some more.

Sergej left right after breakfast and John closed the door himself. He didn't want his maid to be harmed again. He had already given her an extra payment.

Now he needed to look after the slave. He stood and got his doctor's bag from his bedroom and walked over into the room where Sergej had been over the night. He pushed the door open and his eyes widened.

The bed was soaked with blood and the guy in there was barely breathing. John checked on him and it was close. He had to call an ambulance. Well, he knew the people from the ambulance and he would pay them extra, as well.

He performed first-aid and stabilised him. He quietly groaned when John moved him. Bones were broken and skin was torn. John wildly swore inside his head.

***

Sherlock heard the people arrive and voices. He wondered what was going on but didn't leave his room. He knew better.

When it was quiet again, John entered his room. He looked stressed and came over to him. He sat by his side.

“I knew why I didn't let this man close to you...” He shook his head. Sherlock didn't ask.

“Would you like a massage, John?” It was the only thing he could offer to make him relax. Except for the sex. But he could give him a massage with a _happy ending_.

“Actually, I would. Yes. But only a massage.” He crept on his bed and only shed his t-shirt. Sherlock was surprised but quickly stood to retrieve the body-oil from his bath. He had been given all the things he needed for his body-care.

He knelt by his side and poured some over his hands warming it up. Then he moved his large hands over his back and neck and arms. He quietly groaned but didn't direct him. So, Sherlock kept going until he realised that his dom had fallen asleep. He had a closer look at his face but it was completely relaxed and his back was borne to him.

Carefully, Sherlock got off the bed and covered him with a blanket. He washed his hands and sat in an armchair. He didn't read but only watched his Master. John. And he forgot all about breakfast.

***

After waking up again John became very busy and didn't want to be disturbed. Sherlock didn't know what to do. He was still hungry but didn't dare to go into the kitchen by himself, without being allowed to. He sat in his room and waited for something to happen when John entered.

“Here you are. I left you alone to do what you like.” Sherlock just looked at him. He didn't know what to say.

“Talk to me, Sherlock. What's wrong?” John came closer. Sherlock swallowed and licked his lips. He cleared his throat.

“You left me alone. You didn't allow me to go places in here or outside. I am used to sit and wait quietly.” Now he wrung his hands in his lap and John saw helplessness and fear.

“It was implied that you may roam the place. It is. I am telling you now, you are allowed to move freely inside and outside this house. You may even ride the horses if you wish.” John looked at him.

“Thank you, John.” Sherlock didn't know what else to tell him.

“Well, yes. I was a bit worried because I couldn't find you. Cook told me you haven't eaten.” Sherlock shook his head.

“No, you said you'd have sent breakfast but nothing came.” John stared at him.

“God, you must be starving! You are too skinny anyway.” He quickly stood and pulled him along.

“Come on. We can have lunch together but then I have to get back to work.” Sherlock relaxed and quickly followed his Master downstairs.

And he devoured a lot. John was glad to see that.

Afterwards John told him again to do as he liked and disappeared upstairs into his office. Sherlock looked at him leaving and for once felt good. Then he actually dared and opened the door. He slowly walked down the stairs and stood on the pebbles. Then he took off his shoes and socks and placed them by the stairs. He made a few steps over the pebbles and stood on the green. It was a beautiful feeling and he closed his eyes holding his face into the sun.

***

When John thoughtfully looked out of the window thinking about Sergej and his betrayal, he saw Sherlock standing on the lawn. He raised a brow. Why were his feet naked? And wasn't he such a beauty? He smiled and slowly rubbed over his crotch.

After a few minutes, he stood still there and hadn't moved. John shook his head and turned away. He would ask him later at dinner what he had been up to.

In the meantime, Sherlock had started to walk over the lawn. It pulled him towards the stables. This time he wasn't scared because he could simply touch the horses and look at them.

He entered the stables and found them empty except for the horses. They stomped on the hard ground when he passed their boxes. Sherlock entered every single box and talked to them, touched them. One horse especially seemed to like him. It nudged him and slobbered over him. Sherlock was happy and quietly laughed. It was a sound he hadn't made for a very long time.

***

Sherlock was late for dinner and John asked the staff where he was. Someone directed him towards the stables and John walked over there. He finally found Sherlock inside a box sleeping. Hay stuck in his hair and he was dirty. John tilted his head but smiled. Carefully he knelt by his side and gently shook him. Gently?

“Sherlock, wake up! Dinner is ready. You must be hungry. Come on and join me!” He talked a bit louder. Sherlock grunted and stirred. Suddenly he shot up and stared at John.

“I am sorry, Master!” It was the first he blurted out. He also wanted to get on his knees but John stopped him.

“No, stay. Sherlock, everything is just fine. I was only looking for you. Come down.” He spoke with a low voice and Sherlock relaxed. He finally remembered and cast his eyes.

“I fell asleep...” He shook his head.

“Yes, you did. In the hay.” John grinned and plucked some out of his hair. Sherlock blushed.

“The horses were good to me. I enjoyed the time being here.” He whispered the words.

“You are free to come here any time you want. But now I want you to have dinner and a shower. Actually, shower first.” John stood and reached out with his hand. Sherlock swallowed but took it. He got pulled up and John pointed at his shoes and socks. He had picked them up on his way here. Sherlock put them on and they walked back inside.

Sherlock quickly showered and dressed. He actually found new clothes and wondered when they had appeared. He chose a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. There were espadrilles, too, and he stepped inside without socks. For him, this was freedom.

He hurried downstairs and into the dining room. John was already there and sat down when Sherlock appeared. Dinner was served and Sherlock again ate a lot after having had several helpings for lunch, as well.

John watched him and his long hair that again and again fell into his face and on the table. He really loved the hair but it bothered him during dinner. And it wasn't nice to have one's hair fall into the food. He sighed and reached into his pocket.

“Sherlock? Take this for your hair.” He placed several scrunchies and hair clips on the table in front of him. Sherlock looked at them and then at John.

“Thank you.” He chose a pin and stuck up his hair. It also looked nice because now his neck was free. John actually realised that he hadn't collared him again after the baby-play. And he wouldn't do it now.

“Listen, I want to talk to you about Sergej. I also want to talk about my several businesses. I believe you might be able to help me.” Sherlock looked at him.

“Yes, John.” They stood and John led him into the library. The room where Sherlock had been first brought when he arrived in his household. But now he was walking with his Master. He wasn't crawling on a leash.

Suddenly he was handed a tumbler with whiskey. His hand shook when taking it and his long fingers curled around the glass. John stared at his fingers and swallowed. He can't be distracted and he quickly looked away pouring a drink for himself.  
Then he started to talk about crimes and drugs and businesses. He also talked about Sergej and Columbia. And he talked about his business with the government. That was what the formulas upstairs were for. He talked about MI5 and MI6 and his associations with them.

A pang suddenly shot through Sherlock and he remembered something. Something a bit not good. But it disappeared as quickly from his mind as it had shot through.

He listened to everything his Master told him and then sorted through it. Mentally. His Master left him alone but kept watching him.  
After about one hour of quiet thinking, he blinked several times and focused back on John. He sat up straight and talked.

John's eyes widened and he really wondered why he hadn't seen it. He admired this man for his brain. And he used it for him. But what choice did he have? He actually was his slave. He had no choice but to do as he wanted. It wasn't sympathy or anything. It was simple obedience.

But his mind also made him even more attractive. Sexier. He very much wanted to fuck him right here and now.

It must have shown in his eyes because Sherlock suddenly cast his eyes and moved from the armchair on the hardwood and on his knees.

“You can deduce what I want when I want it, am I right?” John stood and approached him.

“Come and suck me but don't make me come. Just get me hard because I want to fuck you.”

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock replied and started to open his belt and zip with his teeth while placing his large hands flat on his thighs.  
John's hands were hanging down by his sides. He didn't touch him, he just watched him. Soon he felt his tongue on his hot flesh and he sighed. This felt so good...

He was getting hard and aroused very quickly and he moved his huge cock several times deep into Sherlock’s mouth without actually fucking it.

Finally, he let go and licked his lips looking at Sherlock’s mouth. It was wet with saliva and pre-cum. His lips were dark red and a bit swollen. He grabbed him and turned him around. He pushed him down on the armchair and opened his jeans pulling them down. He was naked beneath them and he grinned. This was perfect!

And he had given him boxers. He had bought the silky things himself and had everything placed into his wardrobe.

He moved his flat palm over his arse. He knew Sherlock didn't need to be prepared. He was getting fucked too regularly. He parted his cheeks and pushed. The man beneath him groaned quietly and started to move.

John moaned and pushed harder. And he gave him pleasure. Again. He rubbed over his prostate and became faster and faster. He made Sherlock moan with pleasure and found he liked it. The man beneath him was completely relaxed. He could feel it and it felt good.

John didn't question that. Instead he kept fucking him until they both came. He filled him up and slumped over him.

“Thank you...” Sherlock roughly whispered. He just had had an orgasm that he actually enjoyed. A lot.

***

They got properly dressed and had another drink. Sherlock didn't quite know how to cope with the change in John's behaviour. His Master's behaviour. And it had changed but for the better.

“Are you up for some work tonight or are you too tired?” Sherlock shook his head.

“What do you want me to do?” Sherlock asked. John nodded and led the way up into his office.

“I have some files here I want you to go through. I need your opinion on how to best approach and bribe these people. They are in the way right now, you see?” Sherlock nodded and took the first documents.

“May I please sit?” He asked and John made a gesture including the whole room.

“Sit wherever you like. There is a notebook on the desk as well as enough pens. I'll be downstairs for a while. If you need me, ring the library from the phone over there.” John turned away and wanted to leave but got stopped.

“John?” He looked over his shoulder.

“Which number do I have to press?” Sherlock asked and John smiled.

“9.” Sherlock nodded and his eyes turned to the folder. John left.

***

After one hour Sherlock had checked through three files and wrote down ways on how to approach best. He was resting in John's deck-chair almost all the way back with his legs up and his feet on the desk. His bare feet.

He was holding the fourth folder by now and opened it. There also was a picture and Sherlock’s eyes widened. He knew this man. He had been his friend. He had been helping him in the past, after he had run away from home. When he had lived on the streets, slept in the sewers and shot heroin into his bloodstream. He had taken him in several times but the last time Sherlock enjoyed his drugs, he had been taken by his tormentors, the slave-traders. And he had disappeared into cold and dark channels. Obviously, he had never been able to trace him.

Sherlock swallowed and his eyes swam in tears when his finger slowly moved over the man's picture. Gregory Lestrade, Detective Inspector at Scotland Yard.

***

This was how John found him when he came back to check on him. He raised a brow and slowly approached him.

“Sherlock? What's wrong? What happened? Did you find anything?” Sherlock blinked and slowly focused on John.

“Oh! I am sorry!” He quickly pulled his feet off the table and almost fell off the chair. John laughed.

“Never mind. I allowed you to do as you like. And if it makes you feel better and ease the way you work, I don't mind.”

“Thank you, John. I actually found a lot. I wrote down what you wanted for these three.” Sherlock pointed at the folders.

“And the one you are holding right now?” John asked and Sherlock swallowed. He opened his mouth to answer but found he couldn't. Tears threatened to spill and he bit his lips. Hard.  
John raised a brow. He clearly didn't understand his reaction.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Have I been too kind to you? Do you need a reminder of who you are?” John became loud and Sherlock tensed. At once he fell on his knees and his hands found their way on his neck and folded. He lowered his head and waited.  
John breathed hard and looked at him. He actually hadn't meant it. He was just irritated and his temper got to him.

He didn't want him to be scared. If he was too scared, he wouldn't be working well. His results would tamper.

“No, Sherlock. Get up and look at me.” Sherlock slowly stood and his eyes found John's. He was quietly crying and John had no idea what to do about it.

“Talk to me. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong.” He carefully touched him.

Sherlock sobbed. He desperately needed some comfort, wanted to be held by his dom. Perhaps it was in his eyes because John did hold him. His strong arms held him tight and pressed him against his body. Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes. He needed long minutes to get a grip on himself but he finally managed.

“I know this man. From before the agency.” He roughly whispered.

“And?” John asked. He needed to know more. Sherlock wiped over his eyes. He looked extremely tired.

“He was my friend. He helped me. I was homeless and took drugs. I am sorry. You didn't know, did you?” John slowly shook his head. The slave-agency surely hadn't told him anything about Sherlock’s past. He never would have bought him if he had known. And this must have shown in his eyes because Sherlock started to cry again.

“I understand if you want to send me away now. I really understand.” He made a few steps back. But John snatched his wrist.

“No, you are staying right where you are. You are not using right now. You are very useful to me; in so many ways. I don't want you to worry and I am not sending you away. You are mine!” He pressed hard on his wrist.

Sherlock’s wrist hurt but he had needed the wake-up call.

“Thank you...” He was very exhausted and his eyes were really small by now.

“Freshen up before you come to bed. My bed. I'll be waiting.” John pointed towards the door.

Sherlock quickly went through his bathroom-routine and returned. John already sat in his bed and looked at him. Sherlock joined him and was completely naked. He probably thought he was going to be fucked again. But John just pulled him close and held him. He nuzzled into his hair.

Sherlock didn't quite know where to put his hands in this situation. John sensed it and positioned himself against the taller body. His head ended up beneath his shoulder and his face was pressed against his naked chest. He sighed and his hot breath ghosted over Sherlock’s skin. His arm was around the muscled body by default now and he very slowly relaxed. He moved a bit and with the warmth of the other body against him, he fell asleep.

***

The following morning John woke because he felt too hot and actually restricted. He couldn't breathe properly. His hands came up and he hectically moved. Finally, he made it out of the blanket and blinked into his brightly lit room. He turned his head and found Sherlock still asleep. He was completely covered by the blanket and only parts of his hair showed. John shook his head but smiled. He was disgustingly sweaty and slowly rolled out of bed to not wake Sherlock.

A few weeks earlier he would have simply fucked him awake.

He showered and got dressed. He let Sherlock sleep. He had been working hard yesterday and he had cried. He was exhausted when he had come to bed.

Now John walked into his office and picked up the file about Gregory Lestrade. He very thoughtfully looked at it and wondered if Sherlock could be the key. But would Sherlock help him? Of course, he could make him, force him to do it. But it would destroy everything they had now. And John didn't want that.

He sighed and threw the folder back on the desk. He had another look into his bedroom and found Sherlock awake. He was sitting up and rubbing over his face.

“Good morning, sunshine!” John said and came closer. Sherlock looked up at him and a tiny smile was on his face.

“Good morning, John. I'll get ready for the day. I obviously slept in. I am sorry.” But John shook his head.

“Don't worry. You were tired. It's all fine. I'll wait for you in the dining room.” And gone he was. Sherlock looked at the closed door but then quickly got up and hurried into his own room to get ready. He dressed up in the new clothes he had been given and this morning he actually found the underwear. His fingers carefully moved over the fabric and he wondered about why he had been given this.

Downstairs he joined John and had breakfast. John had found out by now what Sherlock preferred and the breakfast table had changed since then. And Sherlock ate. He ate every day and his ribs didn't protrude like they had when John bought him. He was still slim but not sickly thin.

“What is it?” Sherlock asked and John blinked. He had been far away thinking about Sherlock.

“Nothing. It's just, I like to see you eat.” John shrugged and Sherlock’s cheekbones were covered in a shade of red. John found he liked that look.

“Listen, today I have to go into town. You can come with but would have to stay indoors. You could also stay here and ride the horses or do whatever.” Sherlock looked up and his eyes were wide in shock.

“No, I am coming with. I don't want to be alone. Left behind. I will stay indoors. I don't mind. Please, take me with you...” John calmed him down at once.

“OK, you are coming with. We will be staying in my town-house. There will be no servants. It is way smaller than this place and I rarely use it. But we could go out and have dinner?” John had no idea where that came from and he was surprised about himself. But not as surprised as Sherlock was.

“Dinner?” He almost shrieked. John shrugged.

"You want to have dinner with me? In a restaurant?” He had to ask again and John nodded.

“Yes, in a restaurant. Wouldn't you like that?” Slowly Sherlock nodded.

“Yes, I would like that very much.” He drank his coffee.

“May I ask if...” Then he stopped again and shook his head. John looked up again.

“If what?” John raised a brow. Sherlock swallowed.

“If it is a special restaurant?” He didn't actually know how to word it. Of course, John knew what he meant. He had been there, a lot of times. With several slaves in training. And so had Sherlock when he had been trained.

“What? No! I want to have a perfectly normal dinner with you. In a bloody normal restaurant.” John reached out for him and took his hand in his. Sherlock’s hand was cold.

“I even let you chose the place.” He whispered and smiled. Slowly Sherlock returned the smile.

***

When Sherlock sat on the passenger seat, he still couldn't believe it. Their luggage was in the trunk and now he actually enjoyed the ride. The car was nice and he could look outside. For the first time he saw where he actually had been all the time.  
John let him and didn't talk to him. He rode into London and Sherlock recognised all the places. He swallowed but managed his emotions. Some memories came back to him. Memories of his past when he was living in the streets. Faces popped up inside his mind. Places appeared before his eyes. And in the background, there was one special face. He knew he was family but couldn't really place him just now. He had been close, very close.

The agency did brainwash him, indeed.

John wondered what was going on in Sherlock’s brain but he didn't ask. Perhaps he needed this. Thinking alone.

He woke when they reached the town-house. It was rather impressive and Sherlock again was reminded of his past. Had he been in one of these before he became a sex-slave? Living in one of these?

He needed to stop this. It didn't help. And John wanted him to be of use. He would try and enjoy his time in London.

John parked the car in front of the house and they stepped up the few stairs. Inside it was semi-dark and not very fresh. John sighed and started to open the windows. Sherlock did, too, and received a smile in return. He felt much better at once. They entered the master-bedroom and Sherlock didn't know what he was supposed to do. Where John wanted him to wait or do whatever. He stood a bit helplessly in the middle of the room.

“You can sleep in here with me or occupy a guest-room. Whatever.” Sherlock wasn't used to decisions. Not anymore. But he knew what he needed. Not being alone. That was exactly what he said.

“If you'd let me stay with you, I'd be very grateful.” He whispered and looked on the ground. John raised a brow. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Of course.” John said and decided not to overwhelm him. Tonight, they would stay in here. Sherlock needed to get used to the place. Somehow John felt that he needed him close. Him. His dom.

Perhaps John needed to calm him down? He had bought him and now had brought him here into this situation. Sherlock needed to be told how to behave. He needed to be ensured that he was doing just fine.

John knew what kind of things Sherlock enjoyed during sex and he would give them to him. All of them.

“Sherlock, come here. I want you.” John said and at once Sherlock fell down on his knees and crawled over to him. He assumed position and John placed his palm flat on his head.

“There you are. And so good for me. Always.” John roughly whispered. And he saw him relax a bit. He also relaxed himself. So, he had needed this, too. He shook his head about himself. How could he have been so stupid?

He walked around him and finally retrieved several lengths of rope. He didn't undress him or ordered him to undress. Instead, he tied the ropes over his chest and arms and tied his hands to the opposite elbows.

He freed his cock and let him suckle for a while to become hard. He pulled him up and moved him over to the bed. He arranged his body the way he wanted and started to finger-fuck him. Sherlock clearly had expected something else but soon he felt the pleasure John was giving him.

Sherlock became hard and erect and he wasn't gagged. He let it all out. He groaned and moaned and made noises.

John fucked him like he normally did. Fast and hard but this time, again, he gave him pleasure while doing it. The noises Sherlock produced aroused John and he found he wanted to see his face.

He pulled out and turned him around. Sherlock was sweaty and he panted. Their eyes locked for several seconds and John moved his palm over his chest and stomach. John saw him lick his lips and he suddenly pulled him up by the rope around him. Sherlock’s eyes widened in shock and John pressed his lips on his. He was welcomed and their tongues met.

John felt that Sherlock really enjoyed this. He also found that he enjoyed this. He wondered about himself but decided not to question this.

He placed his long legs over his shoulders and pulled him a bit onto his thighs. He pushed inside again and saw his eyes flutter. His lips moved and John lowered his head to be able to hear what he said.

“Please... Oh God, please...” That much was clear. Then followed a strung of words containing thanks and other whispered words John didn't get.

John pushed and pushed and fucked him into oblivion. He felt Sherlock’s balls pull up and he once stroked his cock. Sherlock yelled the place down when he came and finally slumped into the pillows. John followed suit and shot his cum into the relaxed body beneath him.

Sherlock didn't move and John took the ropes off. He just threw them over the side and on the hardwood. Sherlock quietly groaned and his arms were by his side and twitched a bit. Sherlock opened his eyes and looked up.

“Thank you...” John reached out and palmed his face with his left. He smiled and licked over his lips to reply but Sherlock was gone. He was fast asleep. John shook his head but kept smiling. Slowly he got out of bed and retrieved a warm flannel from the bath. He cleaned him up a bit and pulled the blanket over his slim body.

He sighed. He knew he had to do some work. He got dressed just into a pair of trackpants and got his computer. He sat in bed leaning against the headrest and worked for several hours late into the night.

Sherlock was sleeping quietly and didn't move a bit. But all of a sudden, he snuffled and his head moved. He once groaned and opened his eyes. John turned his head and smiled.

“Hello, sunshine.” For a second Sherlock didn't react but then a shy smile came up. Slowly, he sat up and leant against the headrest, as well.

“I don't know what to say to you...” He shook his head and cast his eyes again. John was clueless and didn't respond.

“You just gave me pleasure, so much pleasure. I don't understand...” His long, long fingers were curled around the hem of the blanket.

“I just do as I please...” John finally said. Sherlock slowly nodded. Several minutes passed by until Sherlock looked at him again.

“Italian. Please?” Their eyes met and for a moment Sherlock saw the confusion in his dom's eyes.

“For dinner? You want Italian?” John asked.

“I kindly ask for Italian...” Sherlock replied. It made John grin.

“Yes, well. Italian it will be.” He rubbed over his muscled stomach.

“I think I need a snack. What about you?” Sherlock nodded and quickly rolled out of bed.

“I'll get us something. But do we have supplies in here?” John shook his head while looking at the naked man.

“No. You have to order something. There are several menus in the kitchen. But not Italian, something else. Now go!”

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock bowed and hurried away. Naked. Again, John grinned. Obviously, he had managed to fuck him into a good mood.  
He stood and freshened up. He put his trackpants back on and waited for Sherlock to come back. And when he did, he carried a bottle with a glass. He held it up.

“I found this. I thought perhaps you would like some wine?” He looked at him and John nodded.

“Yes, I would. But where is your glass?” He asked raising a brow.

“I couldn't assume if you allowed it, Master.” His eyes were cast again and he just stood there.

John sighed but only inwards. He rubbed over his face though.

“Pour me some and then get yourself a glass and come back here.” He did not call him _pet_ or anything. He didn't use his name either. Sherlock felt that something had shifted but didn't know what caused it. But he quickly retrieved a second glass and joined his dom in bed.

“I am sorry, Master. I just can't be sure what you want. I can't read your thoughts. I can only assume what behaviour is right or not. Please, forgive me. I didn't mean to be difficult...” He had whispered quickly holding his glass.

“I know it can't be easy. I have changed. I have changed the rules. Perhaps I am getting soft.”

“I will always be good for you.” Sherlock said. The words did surprise John.

“Why?” He asked.

“You took me in. You bought me from the agency. You saved my life.” Sherlock’s throat was rough and he sipped the wine.

“I rented you. I hurt you. I fucked you raw. Then I bought you because you were useful. Your skills are extraordinaire. I understand you are more useful when you are not scared to death. I still want to play with you. You are just perfect for me.”

Sherlock didn't know what to say. A single tear fell into his wine. John took the glass away.

“Don't cry.” Sherlock shook his head but kept crying. Downstairs the door-bell rang. Their food was being delivered.

“Stay here. I'll get our food.” John quickly moved out of the room and went downstairs. Sherlock concentrated on his breathing and tried to come down. It wasn't easy.

John paid the delivery-guy and carried everything into the kitchen. He saw Sherlock had ordered Indian. And somehow, he had managed to order all his favourites. He raised a brow. So he could read his thoughts, it seemed.

He put everything on a tray together with bowls and such and walked back upstairs. He kicked the door open and managed to get everything into bed. Sherlock helped with the tray.

“You just said you couldn't read my thoughts. But you can. You have ordered all the things I like. How did you do that?” John asked filling the bowls.

“I checked the menus. There was one that was used up more. Your finger touched the meal you wanted many times. It was obvious.” Sherlock said and it made John smile.

“It seems I have to be more careful.” He handed over a bowl and Sherlock took it.

“I won't ever harm you.” Sherlock said. John simply nodded. They ate. Sherlock picked his food and took the lamb.

“Please, eat. Everything. You still need to eat.” Sherlock ate it all. He finished the glass with wine. Then his eyes drooped.

“And now you sleep. Get under the blanket and sleep.” John ordered quietly. Sherlock was gone in a second.

John watched him for a few minutes but he didn't move. He shook his head and cleared the bed. He carried everything downstairs and retrieved his computer. He entered his office and started to work. He had business to do while in London. And now he was worried to leave Sherlock behind. Alone in here. He wasn't stable.

John had managed that by changing the rules. At first, he had treated him like the sex-slave he was. Now Sherlock was confused and didn't know what to do. But his behaviour towards him was flawless. John had no reason to punish him. But did he actually need a reason to do so? He could do what he bloody wanted to him. He was his.

He had always liked to hurt his slaves. All of them. Men or women. It simply didn't matter. The main thing was that John liked to use all the whips, canes, and machines on them. He wanted to hear them scream and he wanted to see them cry and shed tears. He loved watching them drool around a big ball-bag while being tied up.

Now he had a slave who obeyed like no other before. Who was able to bring him to orgasm like an artist. And his slave was speaking several languages and had even studied. He could be of great assistance for his businesses, mainly the one with the government. And he knew the Detective Inspector from before. It was almost too good to be true.

But could he make him commit crimes? It surely didn't feel right. John shook his head while typing wildly.

It might destroy him. He would suffer mentally. He actually was a good man. He had been living in the streets and using, taking drugs. But he had been coming from a rich family, it seems. How could it have happened to him?

Then he was taken by the slave-traders. He was trained and finally sold. He had rented him but then bought him because he could see his potential. Plus, he was extremely sexy. He was beautiful and intelligent. He was more than just sexy.

John had seen that Sherlock was confused. Several times he had seen the strange expression on his face. So, he had noticed it, too. That the rules had changed. And the moment he felt John's mood swings, he fell back to being a slave, behaved like a slave, got down on his knees and assumed the position.

But John found he hadn't liked that. It had felt wrong. And he knew the feeling in itself was wrong, too. He should collar him. He should be on his knees. He should be crawling. And he should feel pain, suffer, and scream.

But he simply wasn't. He wasn't because John had changed the rules. The more time passed, the more he saw him as a friend, a lover, a slave with benefits. But was he still a slave? No. John had to admit that. Sherlock wasn't a slave anymore. He treated him as a partner. There were feelings.

_Feelings._

John needed to come clear. He had become rather confused as well. The thoughts he just had were proof enough. He shook his head and shut down the computer. It was early morning and the sun dawned. He needed a cold shower and get dressed. Today he would meet his partners. Not the Russians but others.

And he needed to keep Sherlock busy while he was away. He was convinced that Sherlock wouldn't try and leave the house. Run away.

But just in case, he would give him something to work on.

***

John got ready for the day and was dressed in a smart suit when Sherlock swayed into the kitchen looking for him. He was clad in trackpants and a sweater and warm socks. But he hadn't showered. And he was panting.

“Sherlock, sit with me and come down.” John's voice was low and calm. Sherlock exhaled and sat. He looked at the table and his hands were folded in his lap.

“Here, I made you pancakes.” John pushed over the plate and Sherlock looked up. He was completely surprised. A tiny smile came up and it somehow pleased John.

“Thank you, Master.” John swallowed. He needed to establish the rules. And he did it right away.

“Do you see anybody else in here?” He asked.

“No, Master.” Sherlock replied clearly not understanding.

“I told you to call me by my given name when we are alone. I told you to use the honorific only in the presence of others or during play. What does this tell you?” He changed the tone of his voice and saw him tense.

“It tells me that I am supposed to call you _John_ now. I am sorry. Please, forgive me...” Sherlock roughly whispered.

“I am not angry. You have to understand that. But I need you to follow my orders. Any given orders. Even if they are confusing for you. You may always ask if you don't understand them. I won't be angry with you.” John said.

Sherlock licked his lips and finally looked up again.

“I admit I am confused because of your behaviour towards me. It changed a lot. I don't mind though.” A shy smile changed his whole face and it put a smile on John's face, too.

“Please, be assured that I will always follow your orders. I will obey. I will do whatever you wish for.” And John pushed him.

“Why?” Just one word.

“Because I am yours.”


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock stared out of the window. John had just left. He had left him behind. Alone in his house. But he had left orders, as well.

He had also told him what he wasn't allowed to do while John was gone. Masturbating, for once. And to ensure that, he had caged Sherlock’s cock.

And to remind Sherlock of his place, he had collared him again. It was a soft collar though that didn't restrict his breathing. But it was there, he could feel it.

All in all, it made him feel better. He knew that his mind had changed since being trained by the agency. Sometimes he wished for orders because it made his life easier. Sometimes he wished for his dom's reactions, any reaction. And sometimes he just wished to be comforted, to be held by his dom. _His dom._.

He sighed and left the window. He entered John's office. He started to work. He forgot the time. But John had left him a mobile to be able to reach him in the cause of problems or whatever. And now it had dinged with a text message.

Carefully Sherlock picked it up and looked at the display.

_“Have you eaten?”  
JW_

Sherlock couldn't believe it when he checked the time. And of course, he hadn't eaten. He knew John expected an answer and he quickly typed his reply.

_I will be eating right away.”  
SH_

_Send a picture.”  
JW_

Sherlock stood and rummaged through the kitchen. Somehow there were lots of supplies by now. They must have been delivered while he was asleep. He made a salad, fried mushrooms and cooked an egg for the salad. He shook together a dressing and arranged everything neatly on the counter. Then he took a picture and sent it.

_This pleases me a lot. See you later!”  
JW_

Sherlock smiled and ate. He cleaned up the kitchen and put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Only then he returned into the office and continued with his work.

The next time he woke it was by John himself who stood right in front of the desk and pulled his hair. Sherlock’s head shot up and then he slid from the desk-chair and fell on his knees.

“Forgive me...” He whispered.

“Forgive what? And get up.” Sherlock quickly stood.

“For not having seen you. I should have greeted you properly.”

“You were busy with the work. It's all fine.” John looked at him.

“I have found several leaks and two traitors. I wrote it down for you.” He pointed to a notebook. John was shocked and it showed.

“What?” It came out loudly and Sherlock twitched making a step back.

“They hacked into your computer network and used the leaks to transfer money onto their own accounts. They also stole drugs and sold them by themselves. I am sure I could find more if...” But John shook his head.

“No. This is enough already. I just can't believe it. What proof do you have?” John glared at him and Sherlock felt cold. He swallowed. He was sweaty.

John realised that he scared Sherlock when he looked at him. And he relaxed. He made a step forward and smiled.

“I am not angry with you. I am angry with them. Very much so. I need you to explain properly and show me what you have found. I need proof. Only then I can go and arrange their destruction.” Sherlock exhaled slowly but felt better.

“I checked through your network and found their traces. They were good but not good enough. See?” Sherlock held up his notes and explained. Slowly his fingers started to stop shaking and he calmed down.

And John saw everything. His eyes slanted while he listened to Sherlock. God, his voice did that to him. He became aroused. Hard and erect. And Sherlock talked not realising what was going on in front of him.

Finally, he stopped talking and expectantly looked at his dom. Their eyes met. The desk was still between them.

Sherlock froze and the notebook fell from his hands. He swallowed and licked his lips.

“You are the most amazing man I have ever met.” All of a sudden, he jumped on and over the table and pushed Sherlock back into the desk-chair. He straddled him and then kissed him. Hard and rough. Sherlock moaned and melted beneath him. He became aroused quickly but the cage stopped him.

“Hands up!” John ordered and Sherlock instantly obeyed and folded his hands on his nape. John moved back a bit and fumbled with the strings of his trackpants. He pulled them open and hooked his fingers beneath the hem. He pulled them down and over his hips. Sherlock moved with him and soon his cock and the cage were in the open.

John took the cage away and found Sherlock’s cock a bit rough and red. Gently he took him in his hands and locked eyes with him.

“I left you a mobile, pet.” Sherlock knew how to respond.

“Yes, Master.” John pressed down a bit and Sherlock closed his eyes. It had hurt.

“You should have called me. I would have told you where the key was hidden. The spare key. Because this is so not good!” He pressed down once again. He wanted to make him feel the pain and hear him groan. And he groaned.

“Please, Master. I really hadn't noticed. I was working.” Sherlock looked up at him. Pleadingly.

“If I hadn't sent a text, you wouldn't have eaten either, am I correct?” Sherlock swallowed.

“Yes, Master.” John settled on his lap and relaxed.

“You are a bit weird...” But he smiled saying so. His hands palmed his face. He leant forward and kissed him. Sherlock opened up at once and John started to fuck his mouth only with his tongue.

A few minutes later they had fallen off the desk-chair and rolled over the hardwood.

“I missed you today...” John roughly said placing his long legs over his shoulders.

“I dreamed of this the whole time.” He pushed into him and gave him pleasure. Sherlock moved with him. He also let it all out since he wasn't gagged or had been told to stay quiet.

John fucked him into oblivion and shot his load into him. Then he stayed put and rested on top of him. Both of them were panting and sweaty. John even more since he was still wearing his suit.

Sherlock’s hair was all open on the ground since the pen he had stuck into it had gone lost during the sex. John hooked his finger into the ring attached to his collar and pulled him up.

“We need to shower and dress. We are going to have dinner in a fine Italian restaurant. I look forward to seeing you all dressed up.” He got off of him and led him upstairs. They showered but not together. If they had, they would never have made it outside. And John really was hungry by now.

He watched Sherlock getting dressed. He had bought him a three-piece-suit and it looked wonderful on him. He arranged his hair himself and put it together in his neck. He looked amazing.

And he was his. This man belonged to him. To him only. John was bloody proud. All the money he had paid for him had been worth it in so many ways he couldn't have foreseen.

***

They spent a wonderful evening in the restaurant and walked home. John took his hand and the move surprised Sherlock. But it also made him feel so good. He was happy. Of course, he still was a slave, John's slave, but he led a good life now.

They had a last drink before they went to bed. Tomorrow would be hard because John would take him along to settle the problems. Sherlock was scared but also knew John would protect him. He was too worthy an object to get hurt or damaged or even killed.

Sherlock huddled beneath the blanket and waited for John to come out of the bath when he heard the noise. It was a creak. The stairs creaked on both the seventh and the fifteenth stair. Who was it? There were no maids or other personnel in here and John still was in the bath.

Carefully, Sherlock got out of bed. There wasn't anything he could use as a weapon. The only thing he could do was to lock the door and get them a several seconds advantage. And he had to get John. He quietly turned the key and hurried into the bath. John was just towelling himself dry and looked a bit surprised when Sherlock stood in front of him panting. Then he whispered and John dashed out of the bath. He ran over to the bed, rolled over it and ripped open the night-stand to retrieve a gun. 

He was fast. Sherlock followed his moves, in fact, he followed him and stood close to him. He was scared and he needed to be close.

The moment he lifted his gun the door was kicked in and a man jumped inside. John pushed Sherlock away and fired. But first he pushed Sherlock meaning the man got to shoot first. And he hit John who shouted out his pain and fell. He also dropped the gun.  
Sherlock just reacted and grabbed it rolling over. He heard a rough laughter and then the man spoke.

“Aren't you just the sight. I have heard of you. I will keep you. I will keep his business and his slave.” He loudly laughed and his accent was from some Eastern European country.

Sherlock was kneeling behind an armchair and knew he had to do something. If he let him come too close, he would lose. And he can't lose. He needed to safe John and call an ambulance.

He intently listened and heard the soft steps coming closer. He waited until the last second before he got the gun around the armchair. He shot several times and hit him in his shin, the thigh, and the chest. He had no chance to attack. He had simply underestimated Sherlock. He just fell bleeding all over the hardwood. Sherlock had hit an artery. He took his gun and once kicked him but he was gone already. Soon he would be dead.

He hurried over to where John laid on the hardwood. He was awake but clearly in pain. Sherlock fell on his knees by his side and palmed his face.

“John, what do you want me to do? Call an ambulance? Call a doctor? Talk to me, please!” He said looking into his eyes.

“Get my mobile and call Ian. He will take care of me. No ambulance...” His eyes fluttered. Sherlock felt his pulse and it was barely there. He took John's mobile and scrolled for Ian. He called him.

”What's up, Johnny-boy?” He answered right away and Sherlock cleared his throat.

"This is Sherlock. John needs you to come here and help. He has been shot and is unconscious. He asked me to call you. You would know what to do.” Then he was able to hear some very inventive swearing.

”Town-house?” The question came out of the blue in the middle of a string of swearwords.

”Yes. Please, hurry...” Sherlock’s throat hurt and he was close to tears.

”I am on my way already. Do not panic, do you hear me? Go back to his side and tell me if he is bleeding and where. Go!” Sherlock turned to John again and had a closer look. And he found blood.

”He is bleeding from a shoulder wound. His pulse is weak.” He told Ian.

”Very good. Now stabilise him and roll him on the side that is not injured. Stay by his side and talk to him. Try to keep him awake and alert.” Sherlock did that and confirmed it.

”Perfect! I am almost there. Are you sure the attacker was alone?” Sherlock suddenly felt cold. He looked over his shoulder and tried to listen into the house, but his heart was beating too loud. He wasn't able to hear anything else.

”No, I am not sure. I am sorry...” He sobbed once and turned back to look at John who was blinking his eyes open. At once he palmed his face and his thumb stroked over his cheekbone.

”It's all fine. I am coming in now. Please, do not shoot me. I am on my way upstairs now.” Sherlock could hear him and looked at the door. A man entered and approached him. He had never seen him before, not even in John's files. He knelt down by John's other side and quickly checked him over. He wore a backpack and now took it off his shoulders. He cut off John's shirt and Sherlock saw a nasty wound. The man hummed.

”The bullet is still inside. I need to get it out. Help me carry him downstairs into the kitchen.” Sherlock just obeyed and did was being told. He also cleared the counter and put water to boil. He fetched clean towels, as well.

John was still half-awake and his fingers twitched.

“You!” Sherlock’s head shot up and his eyes met Ian's dark-brown ones. He swallowed.

“Sherlock, isn't it?” He asked and Sherlock nodded.

“Yes, Sir.” Being polite was never wrong. Most of all for a slave. But Ian just smiled.

“You will be my nurse. You will help me getting the bullet out of him. At first, I want you to pile up your hair and then disinfect your hands.” Sherlock instantly obeyed and used three pens now just to make sure it won't fall down while assisting this Ian.

Ian rummaged through his backpack and got out several packed instruments. Then he disinfected his hands and got gloves. He told Sherlock to hold this and that and it worked perfectly fine. He had performed many experiments at university. He had studied chemistry. He knew how to perform.

The moment he held the bullet between his fingers Sherlock relaxed completely and looked at John.

John looked back. His eyes were hooded but still shone in that intense blue. Sherlock took his hand.

“I will take care of you. You don't have to worry. See? Ian got the bullet out.” Ian held it up for John to see. John sighed and closed his eyes. Then he was gone.

Sherlock looked worriedly at Ian for directions.

“Well, this worked fine. You were a good nurse. Normally, I wouldn't leave him alone with a slave. But he has told me about you. Therefore, I will leave you alone with him to take care of him. He needs to be watched over in case he gets feverish. You have to call me if that happens.” He seriously looked at Sherlock.

“Yes, Sir.” Sherlock nodded. He desperately needed to be told what to do. He wanted to help John. He needed him. John. His dom.

“Try and make him drink some water. Tomorrow you will have to cook a light soup. Only vegetables inside. He won't like it but you can't listen to him. Tell him I said so. It might help. If you can't make him eat, tell him I will be back and make him.” A grin was shown on his face for half a second but Sherlock saw it. He wondered how their connection was but didn't ask.

“Yes, Sir.”

“If there are any problems, if you are unsure or need help, you call me. I will place some of my men around the house for protection. We can't trust his anymore. You don't have to worry about them. They will patrol around and sit in their car. They won't enter. If someone does enter the house again, call me! Did I make myself clear?”

By now Sherlock had become a bit pissed. This man was not his Master. He knew he was his dom's friend but it didn't give him the right to treat him the way he did.

Sherlock straightened his body and glared at him.

“This is my dom there on the counter. He told me to call you and I did. You are not holding anything above me. And you should know that I am neither deaf or stupid.” Ian glared at him but then outright laughed.

“Oh, I can see why he likes you so much!” He shook his head and grabbed his backpack. Sherlock had no idea what to say to that.

They brought him upstairs very carefully and put him to bed. Afterwards, Ian left and Sherlock locked the door. The intruder had come in and also switched off the alarm. He must have someone close to John on his pay-list. Even though, Sherlock locked it.

Somehow, he trusted Ian to arrange protection. He hurried upstairs and had a look out of the window. There were men walking around and in two cars. He calmed down and turned to look at John. He was asleep. Sherlock quickly used the loo and pulled a chair close to the bed. Then he settled. He knew how to stay quiet. He knew how to not move at all. He was a perfectly trained slave after all.

***

John slept through the night and only woke with the first rays of the sun. He slowly blinked his eyes open and groaned when he tried to move. At once Sherlock got closer and took his hand.

“Don't move. You have been shot. Please, be careful...” Sherlock whispered. John turned his head and focused on him.

“Sherlock... What the fuck happened?” His voice was rough and Sherlock tried to make him drink some water. But he didn't want the water. He wanted explanations.

“Help me up!” John ordered but now Sherlock denied him. He knew he wasn't supposed to do that but he also knew he was injured. Ian had left clear instructions.

“No. You need to drink some water. Then I will tell you what happened. When you are up to it again, I expect to be punished severely. But now you will drink.” Sherlock didn't dare to look at him when he held the glass to his lips and lifted his head.

But John drank. And then he quietly laughed.

“Have you become a rebel over the night?” He asked looking up at him. Sherlock shook his head.

“I just want you to heal properly...” Sherlock replied.

“You could have run.” Sherlock closed his eyes. He knew that. Damn his feelings.

“You were shot. Because of me. You needed help. You could have died without me. I couldn't let it happen.”

“I am glad you stayed...” John replied and forced his eyes to stay open.

“I need the loo.” Sherlock stared at him and swallowed.

“Ian said you are not allowed to get up before tonight.”

“Do you want me to piss in my bed?” John asked angrily but Sherlock shook his head.

“No, of course not. There are several possibilities. For once, I am sure I could find a diaper. Second, there will be things for medical play in the house to use. Three, I might find a bottle wide enough to hold your cock.”

“I hate you...” Sherlock cast his eyes and swallowed.

“Just as I have said. The moment you are back, I expect to be punished severely. Master.” Sherlock whispered.

“Oh, you have no idea...” John roughly whispered. Sherlock felt cold but didn't give up. Finally, John told him about the basement and Sherlock got a usable bottle from the clinic equipment. He lifted the blanket and gently took John's cock. But he couldn't let go. He groaned and shook his head.

“Can't...” His head was turned away and his eyes were closed. Well, Sherlock remembered for sure how he had been forced to urinate. Mostly into his clothes or on other slaves for the joy of others who were watching. He pressed on John's bladder and made him piss into the bottle.

Sherlock felt sick and John was very red in the face. Neither man spoke.

“Forgive me, please, Master.” He whispered and disappeared into the bath to empty and clean the bottle. John didn't acknowledge him when he returned to his side but Sherlock spoke anyway.

“Ian told me to cook a vegetable soup for you. I will do that now. Please, do not get up. Just please? I will leave the door open, so I can hear you if you call me.” Now John turned his head.

“Why would I call you? So, you can come back and humiliate me further?” He hissed and Sherlock tensed. He knew though he had done the right thing. He wondered when John reached the idea to order him to hurt himself. Surely, he had done it to slaves before. Sherlock had been forced to do it himself during his training. It went against all instincts but the punishment had been too gruesome to resist.

He turned away and walked into the kitchen. He prepared the soup and let it simmer. Then he sat down on a chair and cried his heart out. He didn't understand his dom's behaviour. He only meant well.

Sherlock didn't know how long he had been sitting there when it knocked on the door. His head came up and he stood. This must be Ian and he was right. He opened the door for him and they entered the kitchen. Ian looked at him.

“Did something happen to John?” He asked at first, probably because Sherlock was crying. But he shook his head.

“No, he just doesn't want to do what I am asking him. He won't speak to me anymore. He is moving away from me...” Tears were falling and he started to cry again. He fell back on the chair and rested his head on his arms.

Ian shook his head. He knew he had to take over. Sherlock had managed through the night and had even withstood John this morning. He must really like him. Now his strength was gone. But he had cooked the soup and it smelled good.

“OK, listen to me. You will go and take a shower. You are disgustingly smelly. Go into a guest-room. I will take care of good old Johnny-boy.”

“Yes, Sir.” Sherlock slumped out of the kitchen. Ian shook his head and filled a bowl with soup. He carried it upstairs and knocked on John's door.

“Piss off, bitch!” Yes, John was very pissed indeed. Ian grinned and pushed the door open.

“Good morning, sunshine! Time to get fed. You need it to get your strength back.” Ian got closer but John just glared at him.

“Where is that stupid cunt?” He asked. Ian sat down on the bed.

“The stupid cunt cooked this soup for you. He also helped me while I was operating. He stayed by your side the whole time and now he is crying his fucking heart out because you are showing a nasty behaviour towards him.”

“It has no right to behave like that! He is my bloody slave, for God's sake!” John was very, very angry.

“It or he? You seem to be very confused. I fear, I might have given you too many pain-killers.” Ian sadly shook his head. John looked up at him. It took him several minutes to relax into the bedding.

He wanted to lift both arms but couldn't. Finally, he used one hand to rub over his pale face.

“Where is Sherlock?” He quietly asked.

“I found him in the kitchen crying. I sent him up to shower and change. He was very worried. You know, he could have run, don't you?” John nodded.

“He said he expected a severe punishment after this. And I didn't contradict him.” John shook his head.

“You just behaved like you normally do when you are in pain and confused. Or only one of that. I know you, Johnny-boy. But Sherlock doesn't. Somehow though you have let him close. I think he has feelings for you.”

“Of course, he has. I am his dom, his owner, his Master. I probably made a mistake by giving him pleasure but I found I needed to calm him. He is so very useful to me. He is intelligent and beautiful...” There John stopped talking. Ian smiled and it soon turned into a grin.

“You are in love with your slave!” He stated while holding up the bowl. John's stomach made noises.

“Give me the damn soup!” John hissed and reached out. Ian handed it over but stayed and watched him eat.

“Good boy!” Ian took the bowl back and watched John's cheekbones getting covered in a shade of red.

“You won't ever tell him, Ian, right?” John quietly asked.

“John, please! Of course, I won't. But I will if you don't tell him sorry.” Ian stood and looked at John.

“Tell him sorry? But he humiliated me!” John still was angry.

“I don't want to know but I am convinced he did what he did to help you. Now, promise to say sorry!” The tone of his voice changed and John swallowed.

“Promise.” He quietly replied.

“I couldn't hear you properly, I am afraid!” Now John twitched and lowered his gaze. He felt a lot calmer by now.

“Promise. Sir.” Loud and clear and Ian looked very pleased. He even smiled an honest and open smile.

“Very good, John. It would be a shame to destroy what you have found with him.” Ian turned and left the room. John looked at the closed door and relaxed. He carefully pulled up the blanket and fell asleep. And he dreamed.


	6. Chapter 6

John was kneeling on a four-poster bed. His arms were stretched out and his wrists were tied to the posts. His thighs were parted by a spreader-bar. A head-harness was connected to the upper part of the bed and a ball-gag stretched his lips wide open. His nipples were clamped and weights hung down from his testicles. Behind his knees was a metal bar, so he had to stay upright.

John was in pain. He was kneeling for hours or so it seemed. He was waiting for his dom to come back. He needed to show him how good he was, how his behaviour had improved. He didn't like to be punished for talking back.

His arse still throbbed where the riding-crop had hit him. It felt very hot and his skin burnt. Plus, the vibrator that stuck inside his arse was still working. The batteries were long-lasting his dom had said when switching it on. A penis-plug has been shoved into the slit, too. He felt it all but he couldn't lower his head and see.

He groaned behind the ball-gag and kept drooling heavily. He was also hungry. And he needed to piss.

Suddenly his dom was back. He still carried the riding-crop and moved it through the air.

“Well, well. I gave you a lot of time to think about your behaviour. Do you think you could be good for me again?” He asked. John desperately nodded.

“I see. I will remove the clamps then, shall I?” Very quickly he lifted the riding-crop and hit the clamps making them fly through the room. John screamed from behind the ball-gag and swayed on his knees. His cock twitched. The pain in his nipples combined with the permanent tease on his prostate was excellent. His drooling intensified.

“You are such a pain-slut, Johnny-boy. I like that!” His dom exclaimed and hit his stomach and chest. John screamed and panted and swayed some more.

“I bet you would like to come?” John weakly nodded. His dom came close again and removed the rope leading from his head to the upper post. His head fell but he got slapped in the face at once. And his head came back up instantly.

“Good boy...” His dom whispered. Next the bar from behind his knees was pulled away and simply dropped on the hardwood. It rolled away and disappeared under the bed. John's legs trembled but he stayed upright.

“So good for me!” His dom praised him and John bathed in it. He closed his eyes and moaned.

“Now you may prove how good you are again.” The ball-gag was taken out and the harness was removed, too. His dom freed his cock and gave it a few strokes. Then he stepped up and John obediently opened his mouth wide.

And he really gave his best. He licked and sucked and hollowed his cheeks. He took him deep and his dom let him do everything for a few minutes. But then he started to fuck him roughly. He face-fucked him and the head of his thick cock reached down his throat.

He closed John's nostrils and held his head. But John did not move. Instead, he looked up and deep into his dom's eyes. And his dom knew how long he could hold his breath. He repeated this three times until John's eyes fluttered and his eyes threatened to turn back into his head. Only then he let go and shot his cum down his throat.

John swallowed it all and cleaned his cock afterwards. Then he hung into the ropes.

“Very good, Johnny-boy. I am very proud of you. You have behaved badly but now you have proved you can do so much better. You shall be rewarded.” John hopefully looked up.

The ropes completely fell and the weights from his testicles were removed, too. At last, his dom pulled the vibrator from his arse. He climbed on the bed behind him. His hands were covered by black latex gloves when he took his cock and stroked it. When he was hard and erect the fingers disappeared into his behind. He got finger-fucked real fast and hard until his dom's hand disappeared up to his wrist inside his sub.

“You may let it all out. Let me hear you, Johnny-boy.” John was relieved to hear that. He fully relaxed and started to enjoy the treatment he was given. He yelled and screamed and moved his hips. John shuddered and helplessly took everything he was given. 

Finally, he came without any touches on his cock.

He slumped in his dom's grip and groaned deeply. He licked his lips and needed a few minutes until he was able to thank him.

***

Ian found Sherlock downstairs. He had showered and his long hair was braided in the back. He wore trackpants, thick socks and a sweater. He stood when Ian entered and questioningly looked at him.

“He ate the soup and sleeps now. He will recover soon. You don't have to worry.” He placed the bowl on the counter. Sherlock took it and placed it into the dishwasher. He was glad he could move. He had already cleaned every surface and wiped the floor, too.

“What am I supposed to do?” Sherlock asked.

“You need to be strong. He needs you to fully recover. And believe me, he is not angry with you. He is angry about himself. He thinks he has failed. Now he relies on your help and support. He doesn't like to be weak, appear weak in the presence of others, mostly you.”

“I will take care of him. I will do everything necessary.” Ian smiled.

“I know that. Now listen. He has eaten the soup but he needs more. Please prepare a small lunch and a proper dinner. He will eat it, I ensured that. Tonight, he is allowed to get out of bed.” He picked up his backpack and pulled out several things. Medical supplies.

“You can tape over his wound tonight so he can shower. He knows to be careful.”

“What about medication?” Sherlock asked.

“Here, give him this with every meal he eats. Check his wound for infection and take his temperature and pulse. If something seems to be wrong, call me.”

“Do you think we are safe now?” Sherlock asked.

“My men didn't report anyone trying to get close. That doesn't mean it is over.”

“I could check on his actual businesses. I could pick through the backgrounds of his men. The men he trusted. But I need more names.” Ian thoughtfully looked at him. Then he hummed. And then he sat down.

“I agree. Get me a pen and paper.”

“Yes, Sir.” Sherlock quickly retrieved the things he wanted and placed them on the table.

“Thank you, Sherlock.” Ian said and started to write down the names.

“This is it. I don't know more but you can start with these. You know how to use his computer?” Sherlock bit his lips to not answer the question the way he actually wanted. It would have come out very impolite.

“Yes, Sir. I did some intel for John before.” Ian raised a brow.

“Very good. Type a report for him. There is a wireless printer in his office. Give it to John so he can read it. It will make him completely alert of the situation and he will tell you what to do further.” Ian stood and grabbed his backpack.

“You know how to reach me. Do it without hesitation, understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” Sherlock stood, too, and let him out. He locked the door again and then changed the code for the alarm system.

At first, he prepared several sandwiches to give to John for lunch. Before he settled in his office, he had a look into his room and found him deep asleep. He watched for a minute but he didn't move.

He let the door open and sat behind his desk. He worked for more than two hours until he heard John call out his name. At once he hurried over and stood by his bed.

“Yes, Master?” John swallowed. He had had a weird dream. A dream of his past as a submissive. He had been Ian's submissive. His slave. Now he had his own criminal organisation and his very own slave. And he actually didn't want him to use the honorific.

“I need the bottle. Get it.” He simply gave an order. He wasn't yet able to tell him sorry and explain himself.

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock retrieved the bottle from the bath and John put his cock into it and pissed. This time it worked. Sherlock turned his back while he did what he had to do. Afterwards he emptied it into the toilet and cleaned it. Then he walked back to his side.

“I have prepared sandwiches for lunch, Master.” He quietly said and John nodded.

“Bring them up then. I am actually hungry.” Sherlock quickly retrieved them and placed them by his dom's side on the bed.

“Ian told me to take your pulse and temperature. I would like to do that after lunch and also bring your pills, Master.”

“Whatever.” John started to eat and didn't look at him. Sherlock swallowed and sadly turned away.

He worked for a while until John called him again. He did everything Ian had asked for and it seemed to be just fine. John was getting much better again really fast.

“Get me the remote.” Actually, Sherlock wanted him to rest but simply brought the remote.

“Go away and do whatever.” John switched the telly on and didn't even look at him. Sherlock almost fled the room and only when he sat behind John's desk he quietly started to cry.

***

John knew he wasn't fair. Ian would have kicked his arse if he could have witnessed this. His behaviour towards his slave. Sherlock. He needed to be honest with himself. Sherlock wasn't his slave anymore. He was a friend. Just like Ian had become his friend. He had been his dom. He had been training John until he knew what he wanted. And now Sherlock had turned from a bought slave, submissive, to friend and lover. And accomplice.

John had realised it earlier but wasn't able to act after it. Instead, he had been mean and unfair. Sherlock had helped him. He had called Ian. He had cooked and even helped operating him, getting the bullet out. Now he sat in his office and did whatever Ian had suggested he should do.

The dream he had, had been intense. He took it as a sign. He also knew if he wouldn't tell Sherlock sorry, Ian would spank the living hell out of him. He wouldn't care if Sherlock was present or not. He would turn back into his dom and show him the correct way.

And John knew he would drop to his knees by instinct. He had the utmost respect for Ian. So, John kept thinking about the best way and words to explain things to Sherlock.

***

Sherlock had kept the time in mind and prepared dinner at six o'clock. He brought it upstairs and placed it on John's lap on a tray.

“I cooked your favourite. Please eat, Master.” He didn't look at him and simply turned away to go back to work.

“Wait.” John said and Sherlock tensed. But he stood still and just waited what his dom wanted.

“Look at me, please.” Now Sherlock swallowed but did turn around. John patted the bed by his side.

“Sit down, please.” Sherlock really wondered what was coming up but sat by his dom's side. His hands were folded in his lap.

John ate and spoke. Again, and again. After he was done, Sherlock’s mouth stood open and their eyes were locked.

“Say something, Sherlock, please?” John said after several minutes of silence.

“I don't know what to say. I did not expect this.” He quietly whispered.

“Surely you didn't. I can understand how this must have surprised you.” Sherlock nodded.

“I am sorry I made you cry. I wasn't fair. I hurt you with my words. I needed Ian to show me and make me understand myself. Again.” John sighed and shook his head.

“Ian said you are allowed to shower tonight. I can tape you up if you like.” Sherlock had no idea what else to say.

“Yes, please do that.” First, Sherlock took the tray away. John had eaten everything. He returned and checked the wound. It wasn't infected and he taped it over.

“Ian said you know how to do this. I will be right outside in case you need my help.” Sherlock said.

“Very good. I will be careful.” He disappeared into the bath. Sherlock listened to all the noises but only relaxed when John came back out clad in a towel. He looked quite a bit exhausted and Sherlock brought him back to bed and pulled up the blanket.

John reached for his hand and held it.

“Please, stay with me.” Sherlock weakly smiled and didn't talk about the work he had done. Instead, he sat down and held his Master's hand. He still held it after he had fallen asleep.

***

Sherlock fell asleep sometime during the night. He had slumped against the headrest and drooled on John's shoulder. John grinned when he saw that first after having woken up. He lightly pressed his hand and whispered his name.

“Sherlock, wake up!” Sherlock did his endearing snuffling and blinked his eyes open. Their eyes met and Sherlock relaxed at once.

“Are you feeling better, Master?” He asked with a sleep-rough voice. It aroused John but he held back.

“Very much so. I would feel even better if you would call me just John again.” He looked serious.

“I'd like that...” Sherlock smiled.

“I am hungry. I'd like a full English. Can you do that?” Sherlock nodded at once and stood.

“Sure. Coming up right away. Please, be careful in the bath. John.” The smile became broader and he hurried downstairs.

John carefully showered again and took his meds. He dressed in comfy clothes and slowly walked downstairs with his hand on the bannister. He heard the radio playing and shook his head. He entered the kitchen and grinned. Sherlock was swaying his hips to the music and his hair was piled up into a wild knot. And he was cooking a full English. He watched him leaning against the wooden frame.

Suddenly Sherlock turned his head and saw him. He blushed and switched off the music at once.

“I am almost done.” It was all he could manage.

“So, I see.” John came closer.

“I missed you. When I was being mean to you, I actually wanted you close.” He looked into his eyes.

“I felt your words like lashes from a whip. It hurt. But I understood. I am your slave after all.” He shrugged.

“You haven't listened to anything I have said to you yesterday, am I correct?” John asked. Sherlock didn't reply. Again, he was extremely confused. John was altering the facts and it made him dizzy.

“I went through your employee's files. Ian gave me some names. I wrote a report.” He pointed over to the table. John's eyes followed the gesture and saw the document. Slowly he walked over and sat down.

“You have been busy.” He just said looking back up. Sherlock just shrugged and put the breakfast on a plate. One plate.

John raised a brow when it was set before him.

“What about you?” He asked starting to eat.

“I had toast earlier. While cooking this.” John didn't think Sherlock was telling the truth but he didn't comment.

He finished his breakfast and Sherlock poured him coffee. John shoved the cup a bit away from him and moved his chair back. Then he spread his legs and pointed between them.

“Come here, Sherlock.” Sherlock was extremely glad to be given an order. He quickly stepped up and fell to his knees. He instantly assumed position.

John reached behind his head and pulled his hair to open the knot. It fell down and John smiled.

“Lower your hands and place them on my thighs.” Sherlock did that, too.

“Now give me your beautiful eyes.” Sherlock slowly looked up and their eyes met.

“There is no need to cry. I simply want you to listen and understand.” Sherlock nodded.

“Well. Yesterday I explained my behaviour and my past. I told you sorry and you seemed to be less tense after that. Am I right?” Sherlock nodded.

“I thought so. You have stayed by my side yesterday night, right?” More nodding.

“Ian advised me to admit my feelings. The feelings I am having for you.” Sherlock’s eyes widened.

“I rented you. You were a slave back then. I didn't care about you or your life or how you came to be part of the agency. Then I bought you because I recognised you could be so very useful. You had proved it. Over the weeks and months, my feelings changed. I became softer towards you. Your behaviour always was and still is flawless. I finally called you by your given name. I never called you again except when I became angry. You meant more and more to me.” John exhaled.

“I fell in love with you.” Finally, the words were out. Sherlock gaped at him. Then he shook his head.

“I don't know...” His long fingers on his thighs twitched and he desperately wanted to flee the room. But he was perfectly trained and didn't move an inch.

***

“I understand why this must have shocked you. But I needed to tell you. Now get up and do whatever. Come back to my side when you are ready.” Sherlock swallowed and slowly stood. He left the kitchen and left through the back door. He fled into the garden. He had found it earlier and walked through to the end. There he sat leaning against the wall and closed his eyes.

He didn't get up when it started to rain. He kept sitting there. His mind was completely blank.

***

John left him alone. He had no idea where he had disappeared to. Instead, he took the report and read it on the sofa in the living room. He was shocked after he was done. Then his eyes slanted and he became angry again. Very much so.

Ian found him like this. John stood and looked up at him. Ian tilted his head.

“Johnny-boy, you are up again. Are you feeling well enough?” He seriously asked coming closer. John nodded.

“Yes, I am. Thanks, Ian. For everything.” John shyly smiled.

“You have talked to Sherlock?” Ian asked and John gave him a nod for an answer.

“And?” Now John shrugged.

“I am not sure. I think he is very much confused. He had no idea what to tell me or say to me. I send him away to think about it and just let him be. I read his report in the meantime. You gave him the names he worked on, am I correct?” John asked.

“Yes, I did. You talked about him in a way that made me think he could do the research regarding your traitors. They must be close to you. Very close if they knew the alarm-code and everything.”

“You are right, of course.” John sighed and waved the papers around.

“He actually found a lot. And I need to act. But I am afraid that Sherlock gets in the middle of everything.”

“You mean, in the middle of your clean-up?” John nodded.

“Yes.” They looked at each other.

“I could take him in while you are taking care of your business.” Ian offered. John chewed on his lips.

“I promise to hide him away. I won't touch him. He is yours. He is the man you love. I would never do that. What we had is over, John. But I still love you and you know that. But differently.” Ian seriously said.

“I know that. And you know that I return your feelings. Very much so. Without you, I would have been lost.” They looked at each other and finally hugged for a while. It did John a lot of good.

“And now we should go and find Sherlock. He needs to understand why you are sending him away to stay with me for a while.” Ian said. John looked quite a bit shocked.

“You mean, we should tell him the truth? What I am about to do?” He asked.

“Yes, sure. He already knows everything about your business.” John exhaled.

“You are right, of course. Well, let's find him then.” They searched the whole house but couldn't find him. It took them a long time until Ian asked about a back-yard and John shrugged.

“It's there but not used. I never sit outside when I am here. But there is a door leading outside.” Ian opened the door and the rain had just stopped. His eyes found Sherlock leaning against the brick wall at the other end.

“Look, over there.” He pointed him out and John hurried over. His shoes and feet were soaked when he reached him. Sherlock was soaked, too. His hair was all wet.

“God, Sherlock! What are you doing?” Sherlock just shook his head. John touched him and found him cold.

“You need to come inside and take a hot shower or bath. Get up, please?” John said and Sherlock slowly stood. His teeth were chattering and he was pale, sickly so. Inside Ian had taken a blanket and placed it over his shoulders. His whole body shivered and trembled by now.

John prepared a bath and Ian brought him upstairs. Sherlock did everything they asked him. They put him into bed and Ian added a warm bottle. Sherlock pressed it against his chest and closed his eyes. They left the room.

***

Sherlock was able to smell John everywhere. The bedding smelled of his dom and he relaxed. He still was confused and hadn't noticed the rain or the cold. He had only wondered why Ian was back because John was so much better.

He slept for a few hours and woke by himself. He rubbed his eyes and felt warm again. He rolled out of bed and freshened up, brushed his teeth. He found a fresh pyjama and t-shirt. He decided to look for John and Ian. He desperately needed to talk to John.

He found them in the living room and felt conscious enough not to kneel in front of them. He entered the room and slowly stepped up.

John saw him and stood at once.

“Sherlock! Are you better? You must be hungry! Come here and sit!” He ushered him into his armchair and he sat on the armrest.

“I am fine, thank you.” He quietly said looking from John to Ian.

“John has read your report. It contains important information and he has to react.” Ian said.

“That's correct. You have done perfectly with your research and I am extremely grateful for your work, Sherlock. But Ian is right, I need to do something about it. And I don't want you to get harmed or hurt badly. You have to get out of the way.” Suddenly Sherlock felt cold again. He was shocked and looked up at him. His hand carefully touched him.

“Please, don't send me back to the agency. I beg you, please.” Ian saw how shocked he was and stood. He knelt by his side and placed his hands on his thigh.

“Sherlock, look at me.” Slowly Sherlock’s head turned towards Ian and they locked eyes.

“John has to react to the threat. He needs to do a clean-up or he will lose everything. But he doesn't want you into the line of fire. He wants you safe. That's why you are coming with me. I will take care of you. Do you understand?”

Sherlock’s eyes left Ian and moved up to John.

“Please, be careful. I don't want to be without you. I will obey and go with Ian.” John smiled and palmed his face.

“You can trust him. You will be absolutely safe with him. No harm will come to you. I won't allow it.”

Actually, Sherlock wanted to know for how long he would have to stay with that Ian. He sensed that Ian and John had a connection. But Ian clearly was a dom and strong. But he didn't ask. Not a single question came out of his mouth. He simply accepted his dom's wishes.

“We can't stay here any longer. It isn't safe. We will pack our belongings and leave with Ian. I will stay the night with you but tomorrow morning I have to leave.” John stood and Sherlock got up, too.

“I will pack our things.” Sherlock said and left the room. They heard him walk upstairs.

“That went better as I expected.” John said.

“He still is very confused. He hasn't yet fully understood, I am afraid. If you agree I will talk to him after you have left.”

“Please, do talk to him. It seems I am not getting through.” John looked a bit sad.

“It's understandable though. You needed such a long time to understand what and who you really are, too. And look at you now, Johnny-boy.”

“It needed Sherlock to find the reason for everything. Before him I just had fun. I rented slaves. I bought the most useful ones, too. They died or I sent them away after a while. I did what I wanted as a dom but I never found the real thing again.” He sadly looked at Ian who just shook his head.

“It never would have worked with us, John. You are a true dom and so am I. It just does not work.” He shook his head.

“I know. I think I love Sherlock. I have told him. He just does not understand what I am saying.”

“He does understand the words but his brain can't put them together properly. He has been abducted and you have bought him. You abused him and tortured him. You fucked him raw for weeks on end. And suddenly you have changed your behaviour towards him. From his side, it is a question of trust. By now, he is just happy you are not tormenting him anymore. He takes what he can to recover.” Ian explained, at least he tried.

“I trust you to talk to him and to make him understand. No, make him believe.” Ian slowly nodded.

Sherlock returned with their bags and properly dressed. His hair was back and braided and he just stood there waiting. Ian looked at John and stood.

“Let's go then.” John followed and grabbed his bag on the way. He took Sherlock’s hand and pulled him along.

Ian drove himself and John and Sherlock sat on the back-seat together. A second car followed theirs with Ian's security inside. They stopped in front of an apartment-block and rode the elevator up into the penthouse. He had such a nice place. Sherlock looked around but didn't see any slaves or other people, normal employees, around.

“Welcome to my private place. In here, there is only me. Cleaning staff comes in regularly and I will let you know when. Feel free to move around and use everything. I don't mind. I will be mostly in my office. Just knock if you need something. That's the only thing I am asking for.”

“Of course, Sir. You won't even notice me.” Sherlock quietly said.

“Well, I certainly hope I will notice you for the meals and calling me Ian.” And he smiled. A small smile tugged Sherlock’s lip up.

“Yes, Ian.” John was very pleased with their interaction. And he wanted a quiet, nice evening before he left.

“Very well. We should have dinner now.” John suggested.

“I have some supplies if you trust my cooking skills. Or we can order takeaway?” Sherlock at once used the given chance to make himself useful.

“I will check your supplies and see to a freshly cooked dinner. Please, show me your kitchen. Ian.” He eagerly followed him through the flat while John found his way into the living room where he poured a drink.

Ian left Sherlock doing his wonders and returned to John's side. He fell into an armchair and John poured him a drink, too. Ian smiled.

“Thanks, Johnny-boy. I must tell you; I envy you. You are lucky because you have found Sherlock. He is a good man and a perfect submissive. But you must not forget where you have bought him from. He hasn't chosen this life, the life he leads now.” Ian was dead serious.

“I damn well know that, Ian. I bought him from the damn agency where I always rent from. I have never asked anything and I am not asking now. He once told me though that he had been abducted when he was high. He was a user and living on the streets. They found him and saw his looks and they took him. They trained him and then I came around and since they know what I like they offered him to me.” John sighed and drank.

“Quite understandable, indeed.” Ian sighed and poured more for them.

“I did to him what I always do. He always perfectly behaved, no matter what I did.” John spoke quietly.

“Not like you, am I right, Johnny-boy?” Ian tilted his head and grinned. John blushed and swallowed.

“No, if he had behaved like me, I might have hurt him badly, injured him severely while punishing him.”

“Yes, you have always been a more severe and strict dom. More than me.” Ian thoughtfully said.

“You are very strict, too. But in a different way. I know Sherlock is in good hands with you.” Right then Sherlock knocked and joined them.

“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Where should I set up the table?” He quietly asked.

“There is a dining-room at the end of the hall. You'll find everything in the cupboards there. We will join you right away.” Ian smiled and John saw how Sherlock soaked it up and even returned it. He turned around and left.

John looked at Ian.

“You are still so good...” Ian laughed and shook his head.

“So are you. You are different though. But you are doing just fine with him.” They stood and Ian stared at the table in the dining-room. There was a table-cloth and linen serviettes as well as two candle-holders. It was set up beautifully and the wine sat in a decanter. Ian sat down and so did John.

“This is bloody perfect. He must have had a good childhood to know this.” Ian said.

“He only told me about a brother in the government but we never talked about it since then. Too much happened.”

“I see. Perhaps I can find out more.” Sherlock returned with a tea-trolley and their dinner. And it was very good and tasty. Ian was happy and so he said.

“You are a great cook. I am happy you are staying with me for a few days.” He looked at him and saw him blush. His hair was piled up a bit messily and Ian thought he needed a haircut. But John wouldn't like it if he intervened.

Then his eyes met John's.

“You know what's right, Ian. I trust you with everything.” And Ian smiled. He would make things right. For both John and Sherlock.


	7. Chapter 7

Sherlock stood in the guest-room Ian had given John and him. He didn't know what to do while John showered before bed. He had already unpacked their bags and now waited for his dom to return. To state his wishes. He assumed he wanted some sex before he left tomorrow.

John joined him again still a bit wet. He approached him and looked up at him. Sherlock swallowed.

“I wondered why you didn't join me in there?” John quietly said and Sherlock felt cold suddenly. Then he swallowed and licked his lips. He even had to clear his throat.

“You didn't tell me to join you, Master. John.” A single bead of sweat ran down his spine.

“Yes, you are right.” John said no more and turned away.

“Go and shower now. I want to go to bed. And I want you to join me.” He gave explicit orders. Then he got out of the towel and held it out for Sherlock to take. He quickly approached and took it from him.

“Yes, Master. John.” He quickly disappeared into the bath and showered. He also hung up the towel. He dried his hair as much as possible in his hurry to get back to his dom. And he stayed naked since he had done the same. He knew what to expect and went back outside.

John sat in bed leaning against the headrest and watched him getting close. He tilted his head. Sherlock thought he had done something wrong and didn't move. But suddenly a smile came up on his dom's face and he slowly relaxed.

“Come here, Sherlock.” He patted the bed beside him and held back the blanket for him. Quickly Sherlock crawled inside.

John lifted his arm and Sherlock knew what to do. He got close and turned his back on his dom. His arm quickly pulled him against his shorter body and Sherlock felt his body-heat as well as his erection. At once he pulled up one long leg and simply relaxed. But instead of penetrating him quickly and roughly, Sherlock felt his lips on his back. He slowly moved his long hair out of the way by taking it and placing it over his shoulder.  
His lips moved all over his back up to his neck while his hand caressed his chest and toyed with his nipples. Again, Sherlock was confused. What was he doing? Was this a new game? Was he gentle for some time only to rough him up later? Sherlock really didn't know what to think. What he did know for sure was to not get his hopes up for a better life in the future. His hopes had been thrashed out of him.

He trusted no one.

***

John felt that his submissive was still scared and confused. And he couldn't make him relax. Sometime later he pressed his forehead against his back and gave up. He let go and rolled on his back. Sherlock didn't move.

A minute later he heard the suppressed noises coming from half under the blanket. He cried. John turned his head.

He really wanted to give him pleasure, wanted him to feel good before he had to leave. But would Sherlock actually miss him? Perhaps it would be better to leave him with Ian after all and forget about him.

But how could he forget about this beautiful and intelligent man? Submissive?

John stared into the semi-darkness. They really had to talk. He had to make him understand. And he didn't want him to cry during their last night. He had wanted to make love to him.

And John moved back up. He turned him around and held him. Sherlock’s face was wet and his lips quivered.

“Please, forgive me, Master. I am sorry...” He sobbed.

“Hush... There is nothing to be sorry for.” And he kissed him on the forehead. Sherlock tensed but John didn't let go.

“I can feel your confusion. But let me tell you that I will horribly miss you when I am gone. But I know you are safe with Ian. I trust him with my life. And yours. You are important to me. As a man.” He breathed hard several times.

“I wanted to make love to you tonight to remember how you feel in my arms. But it seems you don't. It's all fine. I understand. Too much has happened. I simply don't want you to worry.” Sherlock stared up at him. He could still see the blue of his eyes but now it was a darker blue. Very slowly he lifted his hand and palmed his face.

“I expected something else. And yes, I am confused. I still don't understand. But I need you to know that I am feeling safe here with Ian. And I want you to return unharmed.” Sherlock’s thumb moved over his cheekbone. He had never done such a thing to anybody else or even his dom. Never ever. But John didn't push him away. Instead he pressed against his hand.

“Why?” Only this simple word but Sherlock understood why he had to ask.

“I want you to return unharmed because I can't ever lose you. You are my dom and I rely on you. Sometimes there are feelings inside me I can't explain. But I know how I felt when you were shot. I was scared. Scared I would lose you. Since you have changed your behaviour towards me, I feel much better. But still I know my place, know where I belong.”

John put a finger on his lips to stop his babbling. But he smiled.

“I understand...” He roughly whispered and kissed him. Sherlock opened up at once and quietly moaned.

John knew by heart why Sherlock was scared. If he died, he would have to return to the agency. At least he thought so. He couldn't know that John had made a testament and left him a lot of money to survive. He never would be a slave again. But he didn't tell him.

Instead, he concentrated on giving him pleasure. He felt their erections touching and groaned into his mouth. He wanted him to touch back but he never would. Not without being told. And John decided. He knew what he wanted before he went into battle.

“I want you to top me.” He spoke the words and felt Sherlock tense beneath him. And then he sat up and took John with him. John was fairly surprised when he ended up between his sub's legs leaning against him. But he stayed.

“I don't know if I can do that...” Sherlock whispered and his arms were somehow slung around John's broad shoulders. John didn't mind at all.

“I believe you can.” John didn't order him again but waited. He wouldn't beg him though.

“Can you trust me, too?” Sherlock quietly asked.

“Yes. It will be weird at first and I might feel strange but I do trust you not to harm me.”

“I would never harm you. Whatever you did to me before, it doesn't matter to me now. You saved me from the agency. You gave me a home and a purpose. I promise to do my best.” They locked eyes for a minute and then John reached under his pillow and retrieved a bottle with lube.

“There you are. Now please, do your wonders. I am achingly hard and I want to fucking remember something while I miss you.” Sherlock gaped.

“You said _please_...” They stared at each other. Suddenly Sherlock acted. He grabbed his dom and quickly moved him on his back. Actually, he almost threw him around. Then he straddled him and took the lube.  
He moved between his legs and John spread them. Their eyes were still locked when Sherlock finally touched his cock. John groaned and closed his eyes.

Sherlock took his legs and pulled him up on his thighs. Of course, he knew how to top. He actually had a past before the agency and he had tried many things with both men and women. And as a slave, he had been forced to actually rape other slaves after his training had ended. Back then he was used to train newbies.

He once shook his head to get rid of the pictures in his head. Beneath him laid his dom and trusted him. He didn't want to disappoint him. He would fuck him into oblivion and make him orgasm. Several times.

But at first, he needed to open him up. He slicked his fingers, his very long fingers, right in front of his eyes. John stared at his fingers. He had done it several times before; Sherlock had seen it. He was fascinated by them.

“It might hurt at first.” Sherlock whispered.

“I took a precaution.” John roughly replied. Sherlock reached between his legs and found the handle of a plug. He stared at it for several seconds but then smiled. His dom had actually planned this.

He took the handle and carefully pulled the plug out. It left his arse with a wet plop and he took it up to his mouth. He closed his full lips around it and his free hand took hold of John's massive cock. He sucked the plug while stroking John.

And his dom was panting with lust beneath him. His eyes fluttered close for a moment and Sherlock threw away the plug.

He again slicked his fingers and probed on and over his anus. When he finally pushed into his dom's body, he felt the tightness. But he also felt John's willing body beneath him that sucked him in. He felt the soft tissue and moved his finger around until he found his prostate. At once, he pressed down and rubbed over it.

John almost shot up. This feeling he remembered from when he had been Ian's submissive. He had started to give him pleasure after some time as a reward for good behaviour.

Sherlock felt him relax beneath him and soon added a second finger. He worked him up to four fingers until he started to stroke his own prick. It didn't take long until Sherlock was completely hard. He lined up and carefully pushed inside. He locked eyes with John who slowly lifted his arms. Their fingers entwined and Sherlock leant forward. He held him down while he started to push inside.

John was pliant beneath him and soon moved with him. Sherlock was perfectly trained and was able to hold back for a very long time. He moved in and out, changed the angle and kept holding his hands down.

John didn't fight his grip. Instead, he tried to lift his head to meet him. Sherlock lowered his head and they kissed again. The kiss soon became wet and dirty and wild. Sherlock’s moves became faster and more frantic.

He wondered how his dom managed to hold back. His massive cock kept leaking and twitching. The big head pressed against Sherlock’s body.

One more time he increased the tempo. He let go of one hand but put his wrists together over his head and held them with his larger hand. Now he was able to tease, lick, and suck his nipples. This pushed him over the edge.

Sherlock could feel it. His dom was close, very close. He pressed his wrists and bit into the place where the neck meets the shoulder and with a final push, he made him come. He pressed his mouth over his to catch his screams of lust and desire.

But he still felt his hard erection. He wasn't done yet. And he kept fucking him even faster and harder. He made him come for the second time and now he allowed himself to come as well. Their combined screams were swallowed up. After the last waves had ended, Sherlock pressed his head into the pillow.

He pulled out only after several minutes and he still panted. John groaned and Sherlock slumped by his side.

“You are amazing...” John roughly whispered.

“Thank you for letting me enjoy this. It was beautiful...” Sherlock replied. Their eyes met again and John's eyes were bright blue. His hand cupped Sherlock’s face and his thumb stroked his ridiculous high cheekbone.

“Your eyes... They change their colours depending on your emotions. I can see you are really happy now.” He kissed him slowly, invading his mouth.

Sherlock wondered what colour his eyes were now and John whispered between kisses.

“They are emerald, a dark emerald.” He moved down a bit until his head was beneath Sherlock’s shoulder. One arm came around his waist and he sighed. Sherlock felt his hot breath and wondered if they shouldn't clean themselves up. But John didn't move anymore. Instead, he felt him fall asleep in his arm.

And only now Sherlock allowed himself a smile into the dark.

***

The next morning Sherlock woke because John moved through the room. He blinked his eyes open and remembered what they did last night. Slowly he sat up and looked at him.

His dom approached him and smiled.

“Get ready and have breakfast with me?” Sherlock could only nod and swallowed. He quickly went through his bathroom routine and made his hair into a messy knot. In fact, he simple knotted his hair.

He hurried back to John's side and a shy smile was on his lips.

“Now you look relaxed, happy even.” John thought but didn't say it out loud. Instead, he tilted his head.

“Your eyes are still beautifully green.” Sherlock blushed and followed him downstairs. And breakfast was ready already. Ian must have seen to it. Sherlock felt bad that he had slept in.

“No worries, Sherlock. I simply ordered it. And it is perfectly OK if you sleep in. You are not my butler. You are my guest.” Sherlock had no idea what to say to that but Ian didn't seem to expect an answer.

They enjoyed breakfast and Sherlock chose the things he liked. Scrambled eggs and a buttered toast. He never took much. Just enough to please his dom.

“See, Ian? He never eats enough. You have to look after him. Otherwise he will simply fade into nothing while I am gone.” John smiled looking at him. Sherlock simply took another toast and now chose jam to put on top. Ian just had to smile. They were already behaving like a couple but neither had realised it so far.

About half an hour later John looked at his watch.

“I am afraid it's time. I will keep you informed, Ian.” John stood and so did Sherlock. He was afraid he would never see his dom, John, again. But he had to trust him and his skills. Now he was warned. When he had been injured, he wasn't. John would manage and return to him. Unharmed.

He chewed on his full lips and John reached up shaking his head.

“Don't.” He whispered. Sherlock stilled and they locked eyes. Then John kissed him good-bye.

“Be good for Ian, do you hear me?” John roughly whispered.

“I promise, Master.” John raised a brow and made him swallow.

“I will miss you, John.” Sherlock added and it made John feel much better.

“I will be back in no time. Don't worry. Keep yourself busy. Ian will provide everything you might need and doesn't yet have. Don't hold back with him.” John let go and Sherlock desperately wanted him to stay. But he didn't want to be difficult. He didn't want John to remember him crying like a baby. So instead he kept smiling.

“I see you soon then.” John waved and left for the door. Sherlock stayed put while Ian sent John off.

“Be careful, Johnny-boy. If you need anything, you know where to find and how to reach me.” John nodded.

“I sure do. It will take a few days, I am afraid. Please, watch over Sherlock. He tends to hide somewhere and cry his heart out. Alone. Keep him busy. Give him work to do.”

“I will. Don't go into battle with worries. You don't have to. Sherlock will be in good hands and you know how I mean this. Go and rearrange your organisation. Go!” The last word came out like an order. John at once straightened up and nodded. Then he quickly left.

Ian allowed himself a grin when John had disappeared into the elevator. It still worked. Sometimes he wondered why. He shook his head and closed the door.

Sherlock still stood where John had left him. And he still held back the tears. Ian approached him and pulled him into his arms. Sherlock even let him. He needed this, needed gentle touches, tender arms that simply held him.

He and Ian were almost the same height. Ian was a little bit taller even and Sherlock was able to bury his head against his neck. And he let go. He cried for minutes on Ian's shirt and soaked it wet. Ian didn't mind. He needed to let it out.

When it was over, Sherlock straightened up and cast his eyes making a step back.

“I am sorry, Ian. May I retire?”

“There is no reason to be sorry. And remember, you can do what you want in here. You do not need my permission. But I would like to see you back for lunch. If you aren't hungry, at least have a tea.” Sherlock nodded and returned into the guest-room. He shed his clothes and climbed into bed. He buried his face into the pillow and could still smell his dom. John.

He relaxed and fell asleep.

***

A while later Ian interrupted his business to have a look into Sherlock’s room. He quietly opened the door and found him fast asleep. He closed the door and left letting him sleep. He would appear when ready.

Ian prepared tea and scones in the afternoon and settled in the library. He left the door open so Sherlock could find him.

And find him he did. He entered the library freshly showered and his hair neatly made up. He approached him and then slowly settled in another armchair without asking for permission. So, Ian's way had worked.

“Have you slept well?” Ian asked and poured tea for him. Sherlock nodded.

“Yes, I have. It seemed I needed it.” He took the cup from Ian and eyed the scones.

“Would you like one? It's the only thing I am able to bake myself.” Ian nonchalantly shrugged.

“Yes, please.” Sherlock reached out and took one on a plate. He smothered it with clotted cream and marmalade. Then he devoured it in two bites. Ian could simply stare but enjoyed the sight. He acted like a child. He really enjoyed this.  
Sherlock licked his lips and then used a napkin, too.

“This was very tasty.” Ian actually liked the praise and smiled.

“Feel free to have another one. There is plenty enough.” Sherlock did exactly that and also had more tea.

Ian could see he wanted to ask something but he waited him out. Instead, he drank his tea. It took him a few more minutes to feel content enough to speak up.

“I wonder if you could give me something to do? No matter what. I will do it. But I need to be busy. Please?” Ian looked at him. He had actually expected this and hoped for it, as well.

“Well, I could use some help with my books. Can you do that? Accounting, I mean?” He asked and Sherlock shrugged.

“They are just numbers.” Sherlock replied. Ian cleared his throat.

“Yes, numbers arranged in a chaotic display to me they are.” He shook his head.

“Show me your books and a place where I can work. I'll do it happily.” Sherlock said looking at him.

“Very good.” They stood and Ian collected the cups and plates taking the tray. Sherlock had already reached out but Ian was faster.

“You don't have to, Sherlock. It's all fine.”

“Let me cook dinner then. Tell me what you like and I'll cook it.” Sherlock offered and it made Ian smile.

“Anything Italian. If you need supplies, there is a tablet in the kitchen. You can use it to order. They will be brought in immediately.” Sherlock nodded. He could do Italian. It was rather simple. He had had several cooking courses with the agency. He had been trained in almost everything.

And it had turned out that he was a great cook. He had been rewarded a lot and had a good time. He still liked to cook and care for others. And Ian was such a nice man. He was a friend of John, his dom, as well. He helped them and gave them a place to stay. Gave him a place to stay.

Now he stood in Ian's office and was given several actual books. Sherlock raised a brow and wondered about computers.

“I want them to do it this way. It's harder to fake.” Sherlock snorted and then tensed at once. He cast his eyes and felt the urge to fall down on his knees.

But Ian just laughed shaking his head.

“You don't think so?” He asked grinning. He really liked him. He could be a good friend, just like John.

“That's right. It doesn't matter how they are doing the books. It's possible to fake everything.” He still didn't look at him. And he spoke very quietly. Ian saw he needed to reassure him and approached him.

“Sherlock, look at me, please.” He took his wrist and lightly used pressure to make him look up. And he did.

“You don't have to be afraid of me. Say anything you want. You won't be punished. You are my guest and I am protecting you until John is back.”

“It's not easy to forget...” Sherlock quietly said.

“I understand. More than you think. But I want you to feel safe with me. I am your friend, Sherlock. And if you like, you can be mine.” Sherlock needed a few seconds to fully understand the words but then a broad smile came up on his handsome face. He beamed at Ian.

“I would like that very much...” Sherlock felt happy. Ian really was a good man.

“Perfect. We will celebrate tonight. But now the books, if you please?” Ian smiled and Sherlock nodded.

“For the rest of the day, you can work in here. But don't forget my Italian dinner. In the meantime, I will have made an office ready for you. See you later!” Sherlock didn't react anymore; he was already buried in the work.

***

Ian actually didn't expect any dinner that night but got surprised. Sherlock hadn't forgotten. He was just preparing dessert when Ian entered the kitchen to find a snack. And Sherlock saw the surprised look on his face.

“You didn't think I forgot my promise, did you?” He asked with a smile.

“Actually, I did. I am sorry I underestimated you.” Ian smiled and rubbed over his non-existing stomach.

“It's understandable. Where do you want to eat?” Ian shrugged.

“Dining room?” Sherlock nodded and switched off the oven.

“I have already set up the table there. You could perhaps take the bottle with wine I opened?” Ian was extremely pleased. He liked having someone around. He grabbed the bottle and walked over. The table was beautifully made up. Ian wondered where the flowers came from but didn't ask.

He sat down and waited for Sherlock. He brought a big bowl with pasta and sauce and beef. He also brought only pasta and pesto. And he brought dessert, too. He actually had made a tiramisu. Ian thought he needed a lot of training to get rid of the calories again.

“I hope you like it.” Sherlock sat down, too, and started to fill his plate. Ian tried both the beefy sauce and the pesto.

“You are a fantastic cook. This is simply great.” Ian said over the dessert. And even Sherlock had taken a slice.

“I can see you like it. I am enjoying this, too. I really do.” Ian topped up their wine again.

“Friendship.” Ian lifted his glass and Sherlock did the same.

“Friendship.” He said and the smile on his face was genuine.

***

Sherlock told him about the first results of his work when they sat in the library with another bottle of wine and a whiskey.

“But this won't be all, I am afraid.” Sherlock sipped his whiskey.

“No, I think so, too. And I am really very grateful for your help in this matter.”

“I am glad to have something to do, to prove myself useful to you.”

“Tomorrow you will have your own room to work in.” Sherlock smiled.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He sipped his drink and finally dared to ask.

“Have you heard anything from John?” His eyes were wide open when he asked.

“Not directly, no. But I got reports. He has started the cleaning up rather successfully. He is unharmed and safe.” Sherlock relaxed and emptied his whiskey.

“Thank you.” Ian topped up his tumbler.

“You are welcome.” They sat in silence for a while when suddenly Ian reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

“I hope you don't mind. Sometimes I feel like it.” Sherlock almost greedily eyed the pack.

“I absolutely do not mind. May I?” Ian was surprised but also happy that Sherlock behaved more and more normal around him.

“Sure. Take one.” He offered and then placed the cigarettes between them on a table. He lit the cigarette for Sherlock who deeply inhaled leaning back into the armchair. He blew out the smoke and really seemed to enjoy.

They smoked in silence for a while. Suddenly Ian's mobile rang and he raised a brow. He looked at the display.

“I am sorry. I have to answer this.” He looked at Sherlock.

“Yes?” He hummed listening to someone on the other line.

“No. Not now. I am quite busy.” Another pause while he listened.

“I said no.” And he simply hung up shaking his head.

“I hope I am not in the way.” Sherlock said but Ian shook his head.

“No, this was just someone who wanted an appointment. An old client. But I can't tend to my business right now with you in the house. And it's perfectly fine. You don't have to worry.” And suddenly Sherlock understood.

“You are working as a dom...” He kept smoking and stared at Ian.

“Well, yes. I am a male whore to rent.” He nonchalantly shrugged. Sherlock blushed.

“It wasn't what I meant to imply...” He helplessly shook his head.

“I know that. We are friends, remember? And it is my work. I am earning a lot of money.”

“So, I have seen...” Sherlock said. Ian felt the urge to tell him about himself.

“You know, at first when finding out about my preferences and skills, I worked for the agency. But soon I felt bad. It wasn't the right thing for me but I could save a lot of money to open my own business. And good old Johnny-boy was one of my first clients. He was still trying to find his way. I was able to see his true self but he couldn't. And I liked him. I wanted to help him and agreed to see him. He became my submissive for a rather long time. As long as he needed to understand who he really was.” Ian drank some wine.

“A very strict but capable dom...” Sherlock said and Ian nodded.

“Indeed. You see, I had to punish him regularly because he kept talking back and misbehaved. He has suffered like any submissive has to suffer. He knows everything by his own experience. And he turned out to be rather a sadist. But he also was still my best friend.” Ian sighed and drank some more. Sherlock kept listening.

“He rented all of his staff and personal slaves from the agency and became one of their best customers. And one day he found you. He told me about you, about your looks and your skills. I know about his parties to gather intel and how you helped him. By now you surely know he is leading a criminal empire.” Sherlock slowly nodded.

“Yes, I know that. But I don't mind. He saved my life...” He reached out for the cigarettes and took one with shaking fingers.

“He also fucked you raw and hurt you badly. I know that, too. But something changed. He told me the other morning that he let you top him. The last one who did that was actually me when he still was my sub.”

“I have no idea why he wanted me to do it.” Sherlock smoked and relaxed a bit more.

“But you did it. And it seemed you did well.” Ian tilted his head.

“I have been trained well.” Sherlock said sounding like a brat.

“I know. But think of why John wanted you to do it. Think!” Ian emptied his wine and then the whiskey.

“I am going to bed. Good night, Sherlock, my friend.” He smiled and ruffled his hair. Sherlock smiled up at him.

“Good night, Ian, my friend.” He quietly replied.

Ian left and wondered what he would do but didn't ask.

***

The next morning Ian found breakfast ready when he came downstairs. He really wondered how Sherlock did all this. He joined him in the dining room.

“Good morning!” Sherlock said looking over his shoulder.

“Hey...” Ian replied sitting down. Sherlock poured him some coffee.

“I thought about what you told me last night. And I would like you to know that you don't have to stay indoors with me all the time. I can take care of myself. You know, I would never leave this place. And you gave me work to do. So, if you want to work, take in clients, please do so.” Sherlock offered.

“Well, I certainly feel like I am neglecting them.” They looked at each other. Sherlock shrugged.

“I really don't mind. Plus, I could be of help with that, too. And you know it.” But Ian shook his head at once.

“No! I won't abuse you. You are John's.” He almost sounded shocked.

“You are not abusing me when I am simply assisting you in your studio. You know what I am capable of. And it won't be abuse because both your clients and I are there on their own free will.”

“I don't know...”

“Ask John to be on the safe side.” Sherlock insisted.

“I will do that later. But at first you will keep checking my books. When you are finished, I will ask John. OK?”

“OK.” Sherlock smiled and Ian relaxed again.

“I wanted to ask you something though.” Sherlock looked up again.

“Yes?” Now Sherlock was curious.

“I think you need a proper haircut. And I know John approves because we sort of talked about it.”

“He never had my hair cut. I suppose he likes it long like this.” Ian nodded.

“Yes, he loves your hair. But it is too long by now. It looks messy. I suggest a haircut. What do you think?” Ian asked. Sherlock touched his head. The masses were heavy and he had a headache quite often.

“If you are sure that John agrees...” He said and Ian nodded.

“Perfect! I will arrange an appointment. You could check some cuts you might like in the meantime. There is a computer in your new office. Do whatever!” Ian grinned and stood.

“I will be making some appointments with my clients. I will tell you when I am leaving for business.”

“I will be in my office.” Sherlock replied and Ian left.

***

Sherlock actually found a mobile in his office, as well. And he received several texts from Ian who let him know about his business and even news about John. Sherlock felt very good and kept working through the day.

He was reminded of his meals by Ian's texts though and he did go into the kitchen to prepare a snack. He even went so far as to send a picture of it to Ian.

He was still working when Ian returned later in the evening. He stood in the door leaning against the wooden frame and Sherlock tilted his head.

“You look exhausted.” He said standing up.

“I might have exaggerated a bit.” He replied suppressing a yawn.

“Then go and sit in the library. I will bring you dinner and pour a drink for you.”

“Thanks, Sherlock.” He slowly walked there and fell into an armchair. Soon enough Sherlock joined him and poured the promised drink. Dinner followed about twenty minutes later.

“You are a saint!” Ian exclaimed and devoured everything.

“So are you for providing the mobile and keeping me informed about everything. I really appreciate it.”

“What have you found?” Ian asked.

“I prepared a report for you. It's in your office.” Ian nodded.

“Very good. And I think I could really need your assistance tomorrow.” Sherlock’s ears perked up.

“Really? What for?” Ian looked thoughtful.

“I have a certain someone in mind who needs a demonstration in obedience. Perfect behaviour. I know you can do all that. Show him how to behave properly in front of one's dom.” Sherlock shrugged.

“I certainly can do that.” He nodded.

“I won't touch you. I might demonstrate suspension though.” Ian said looking at him.

“What did John say when you asked him?” Now Ian grinned.

“He laughed and then said that you were the most well-behaved submissive he ever had. He praised you a lot and allowed me to work with you. I can even show you the text he sent. He said you would recognise his writing.”

“I am not asking because I don't trust you. I simply want to read it to know he is doing fine.” Ian smiled.

“I know that.” He took his mobile and handed it over to Sherlock who started to read at once.

_Sherlock, I know you are going to read this. Just know, I allow you to play with Ian and you know how I mean that. I trust him and I trust you. Go along and have a good time. Ian is perfect as a dom and perhaps he will show you the key. Have a good time! John.”_

Sherlock smiled and returned the mobile. He wondered what _key_ meant but didn't ask. But he felt positive about being Ian's accompany tomorrow. He actually was excited about it. He really wanted to see where he worked and how. He never assumed someone could be working as a dom.

Perhaps he was still rather naïve.

***

The next morning Ian got up early to have several people removed from his businesses. He borrowed several men of John's and they proved to be very successful. Afterwards he fetched Sherlock who already waited eagerly. They used the elevator to ride directly into the garage. Ian sat behind the wheel of his Jaguar and suddenly some weird images shot through Sherlock’s brain. He knew someone who owned the same car. His brother had one, an older model they used to ride in when he was young.

He shook his head hard to get rid of the flashbacks. Ian looked at him but didn't ask. And Sherlock didn't explain.

They reached a manor in the countryside after about one hour. Sherlock was deeply impressed.

“Have you rented space in there?” He curiously asked. Ian laughed.

“No, this is my place. Inside, there are several rooms for different scenes. I even made up the dungeon.” Sherlock swallowed.

“You must have employees who work for you.” Ian nodded.

“Yes, I have. I am taking the most powerful and richest clients. People who need to keep their desires secret.”

“I see...” Sherlock left the car and followed Ian inside. They were greeted by several men and women roaming the place. They looked at Sherlock with a curious gaze but didn't ask.

Ian led him into his office and made him sit.

“Before we start, I need to know what triggers you. I am surely not bringing you into a scene and hurt you in the process. So, tell me, my friend, what kind of scene you would rather not attend?” He gave him a choice. But Sherlock had no idea what to tell him. He swallowed and opened his mouth only to close it again. He helplessly shrugged.

“I am not sure. I mean, these things won't be done to me. I am just watching you or demonstrate perfect behaviour.”

“That's right. But I might dress you into several outfits just to show new clients the way I work.” Now Sherlock looked up.

“Oh... I see. Well, I always hated pony-play and baby-play. You may dress me up though, that's all fine. I trust you. And I know you won't actually make me pull a cart or fill the diaper. It's just for the looks, right?”

“Absolutely. And we will be having only two clients per day. So in-between there will be plenty of time to relax or even take a nap. And, of course, you can always stop. I won't be angry. I am simply offering to keep you busy with something you are perfect in.”

“And I am grateful, Ian.” They looked at each other and suddenly Ian smiled.

“John asked for pictures of you assisting me. Perhaps I will film some trials so he can watch you.” Sherlock looked up.

“If it makes him happy, just do it. I don't mind.” Sherlock actually felt something like pride swelling up. His dom allowed this, he trusted him to do it right, to help his best friend with his work. And he wanted to watch.

“Perfect!” Ian grinned and stood.

“Our first appointment is due in half an hour. He is a regular and I want to simply demonstrate the suspension rack. He asked for it but he always asks for too much.” Sherlock slowly nodded.

“Come on then. I will get you ready.” Sherlock followed him into an almost unfurnished room with a spectacular suspension system. An exclusive sound-system played classical music and it calmed Sherlock a lot.

Ian asked him to undress and he did it. Cuffs were placed on his wrists and ankles. They were made of soft leather and their insides were even padded with cashmere. Not even John had those. Sherlock liked them, liked the feeling on his skin.

“Please, stand over there. The client will sit right here. I will give you orders and put a mask on you or a gag or something the like. I am using the tapping system and I am sure you know it, too.” Sherlock swallowed.

“Yes, I have been taught and remember it. John though never used it.” Ian nodded.

“If it is getting too much, simply signal me to stop. I will end the session immediately.” Sherlock exhaled and nodded.

“Are you ready to begin, Sherlock?” They locked eyes and Sherlock switched from friend to submissive.

“Yes, Sir.” Ian looked rather pleased. A minute later it knocked on the door and someone brought the client in. Ian talked to him and they started the game. He made him undress and cuffed his hands on his lower back.

“You asked for suspension and I will show you what it means exactly. That's why I brought in someone to help me showing you. For now, I want you to kneel over there and watch us. Think about it. I don't want to hear you though. You may ask your questions afterwards. Am I understood?” Ian asked holding up a butterfly-gag.

“Yes, Master.” The client replied and Ian pushed the rubber into his mouth and pumped it up. Soon his cheeks were filled and Ian buckled the gag tight. The man went over into a corner and knelt. But he sat on his heels and Ian raised a brow. He took a paddle from the wall and approached him.

“You know already how I want you to kneel. Always upright. Always!” He yelled the last word and hit him once on his arse. The man got up and shed tears.

And Sherlock became aroused.

***

Soon after Sherlock hung from the ceiling. Ian showed his client several positions to be tied into the system. The man was able to see how aroused Sherlock was. He became aroused himself. Both Sherlock and Ian were able to see it but Ian wanted to up the ante.

He palmed Sherlock’s face and smiled.

“You are perfect. John can be so very proud. You, too. I want to do the last thing and then the session will end. Feel free to come any time if you can.” Ian stroked over his cheekbone and fetched a deprivation mask from the wall. He pulled it over his head and white noise filled his ears. His eyes were covered by a padded blindfold and a stuffed gag was moved behind his teeth. His mouth got covered by a wide leather strap. Everything sat tight and his head got lifted up and hooked into the system.

Sherlock knew what to expect. Simply nothing. But Ian was different. He made him swing wildly and the feeling was intense. He used a wand over his body, not his genitals, and Sherlock felt his spine tingle. He felt aroused and knew he was hard and erect. His body simply reacted to Ian and he didn't need to force himself up.

And he allowed himself to give in and come. He shot his load into nothing and had no idea what was going on around him. Ian let him swing for a while and when he got him off the system and removed the mask, the client had disappeared already.

Sherlock was exhausted and Ian covered him with a bathrobe. He slumped on a leather bench and looked up at Ian.

“Were we successful?” Sherlock asked.

“What?” Ian asked absolutely clueless.

“I mean, have I been good enough so he booked a session?” Sherlock roughly asked and Ian handed him a bottle with water.

“What kind of question is that? Why do you even have to ask?” Ian stared at Sherlock who couldn't hold his gaze and cast his eyes.

Ian closed his eyes for a second and calmed himself down.

“Forgive me, my friend. Why are you so self-conscious? You were perfect! Just as I expected. And he did book a session.” Sherlock nodded. Then his stomach rumbled and Ian raised a brow.

“Come on, Sherlock. You need to shower and then we are going to have lunch.” He held out a hand and Sherlock took it.

“Yes, Sir.” Ian tilted his head.

“The scene has ended already, my friend.” Sherlock finally smiled and let himself be led away.

***

Sherlock actually devoured a lot for lunch and Ian was pleased to see it. But he knew he also had to talk some more.

“You had quite a strong orgasm down there. I assume you enjoyed it?” Sherlock looked up and carefully nodded.

“Yes, actually I did. But I feel bad about it because I did it without my dom present. He will be angry with me...”

“No, he won't. I already sent him the video of our scene and he instantly replied. He enjoyed it a lot and sends his praises.” Now Sherlock sat up straight and his eyes lightened up.

“Really?” Ian nodded.

“Yes, really.” He gently smiled.

“You have to trust yourself. You are perfect. You are the best submissive ever crossing my path.” Sherlock blushed.

“I always tried very hard. Both in the agency and with my dom. I submitted to him. I did everything he wanted and more. I had no choice anyway...” Sherlock quietly said and pushed his plate away.

Ian looked at him and decided.

“Listen, you are clearly not in the mood for another scene. We are going home.” Ian stood and Sherlock stared up at him.

“No! I can do it! You don't have to cancel a session because of me! I will be just fine!” Sherlock stood, too.

“Leave that to me, Sherlock. I would like you to wait in my private rooms.” Sherlock simply followed him and sat down in an armchair. There were cigarettes on the small table by his side and the bar was close, too.

“Feel free to take what you want, my friend. I will be back soon. And don't you worry!” Ian looked stern but failed. It made Sherlock smile and relax. He slumped into the chair.

“Don't worry about me, Ian. I am good.”

***

While Ian was gone, Sherlock smoked and poured a drink. He felt happy because he had pleased his dom who wasn't even here.

He settled and patiently waited for Ian to come back. He had been trained not to shift and show any signs of unrest. But now he also felt safe. No harm would come to him in these rooms.

He ended up without his shoes and his legs pulled under in the armchair. He smoked and he held a tumbler with whiskey. And he didn't flinch when Ian returned.

He laughed when he saw him like this.

“You look like a lazy cat.” He shook his head and Sherlock sat up straight again.

“Let's go. I have arranged a hairdresser to come into my place.” Sherlock’s ears perked up. He became excited.

“You can tell him what you like and he will do it very slowly. You can always stop him.” Sherlock stood.

“But you will certainly be present?” He asked.

“Certainly!” Ian replied.

They rode back to Ian's place and the hairdresser already waited. Sherlock swallowed but sat down obediently.

But at first, he gently brushed his hair and then sat down opposite of him. He asked him what he liked and how he wanted his hair cut. Sherlock helplessly looked at Ian who just nodded at him.

And Sherlock told him what he liked. The hair-artist nodded and moved him into a bath to wash his hair. Ian followed them to calm Sherlock down and it worked. Shampoo and conditioner were administered and then he started to work on him for real.

Several times he stopped and let Sherlock have a look. Only when his hair reached his shoulder-blades he stopped him.

“I would like a shorter fringe like this.” And he showed him the length. The man nodded and continued. At last, he dried his hair and put some products into it. Ian looked very pleased and paid the man.

Sherlock kept sitting on the chair and didn't dare to look into the mirror. Instead, he looked at Ian.

“Do you really think it good?” He asked and carefully touched his hair.

“You look amazing! Come on and see for yourself!” He ushered him back towards a mirror and both men looked inside.

“Yes, I like it, too. It looks good. John will hopefully like it, too.” Sherlock said.

“Let's find out, shall we?” He pulled out his mobile and took a picture. Sherlock even smiled and Ian sent it. The reply didn't take long. Sherlock actually wondered why John was able to react as fast as he did. Wasn't he busy?

“See? He loves the new you.” Sherlock read John's reply. It consists of several hearts and a thumbs-up emoji.

“Do you have any other news regarding his clean-up?” Sherlock asked.

“John assumes another three days to end it. He is doing fine. He is not hurt.” Sherlock nodded.

“Very well. What else can I do for you? I need to do something. Please?”

“What about gaming?” Ian asked curiously and Sherlock looked clueless.

“Gaming?” Ian clapped his hands almost happily.

“Splendid! I'll show you!” He pulled him into a room upstairs Sherlock hadn't yet been shown. And he gaped. There was an enormous screen and two chairs in front of it. There were headsets, as well.

“We can play a lot of games in here. Have a look and decide. I will join you with whatever you choose.” Ian rubbed his hands and Sherlock slowly approached the tower of discs. He rummaged through them and had finally understood that these were some sorts of video games. He had seen these things last time at boarding school but never enjoyed it. But now, with Ian, it was different. He had better stuff to play with and he wanted to try.

He finally chose a game with aliens and space-ships. You had to decide which side you were on and start a battle in space. A bit hesitantly he took a headset and settled in one of the gaming chairs.

Ian started the game and soon Sherlock found he loved it.


	8. Chapter 8

A few more days passed. Sherlock again joined Ian for his business and it worked much better than the first time. They also played a lot. Sherlock took care of the meals and slept in most of the days.

One morning though he got very surprised. He was still in bed and stretched and yawned. Suddenly he smelled his dom close. He thought it was such a nice dream. And he could even feel his hands on his body, his touches through the blanket and he sighed.

“Won't you look at me?” His voice was low and Sherlock smiled. What a wonderful dream this was. He hummed with pleasure and decided to get up and revel in the feeling while taking a shower.  
He blinked his eyes open and stilled. John stood in front of him. And he smiled. He looked a bit roughed up though.

Sherlock threw the blanket off his body and got up. He reached out for him kneeling on the bed.

“You are here...” His eyes were wide open by now.

“Yes, I am done and I missed my beautiful Sherlock.” His voice sounded tired. He looked at him and finally pulled him into his arms. Sherlock hugged him and John hissed with pain. At once he let go.

“You are hurt. Where are you injured? Let me help and take care of you.” Sherlock’s hand carefully moved over his body and John let him.

“It's nothing. I am just tired.” Sherlock wondered why he was lying to him but didn't talk back. He simply helped him getting undressed. His eyes roamed over his body. There were bandages and bruises but still Sherlock didn't speak.

John relaxed when being on his back and by Sherlock’s side.

“Join me...” He roughly whispered and Sherlock moved up close. His dom closed his eyes and sighed. And then he slept.

Sherlock couldn't really believe it but settled by his side. He was happy that John had returned. But he was injured and had been harmed. Why had he lied not only to him but firstly to Ian, too? Sherlock didn't understand and hoped he could talk to Ian about it while John was recovering.

A while later it quietly knocked and Sherlock turned his head towards the door. It was quietly opened and Ian peered inside. Sherlock smiled and waved him closer. He approached the bed and raised a brow. Sherlock carefully shrugged and slowly pulled down the blanket. Now Ian's eyes became wide. Then his expression changed and he clearly was angry.

He locked eyes with Sherlock and smiled. He reached out and touched his face.

“I will talk to him. Don't worry.” He mouthed the words and Sherlock relaxed. He simply touched his hand and smiled.

***

John slept for several hours while Sherlock stayed by his side. When he woke, he smiled at him and slowly got out of bed. He went through his bathroom-routine and got dressed in very comfy clothes that had suddenly appeared. Sherlock was confused. He had never seen his dom dressed like this.

“You don't have to worry. Even though it pleases me a lot that you do. I didn't expect it really.” John shook his head.

Sherlock had no idea what to say and just kept his mouth shut. He felt hurt. Didn't his dom know how much he cared for him? How much he had missed him? But perhaps he was still his slave after all. He certainly had to adjust his behaviour and change back.   
And he started right away. It was like simply switching it on.

He quietly followed his dom downstairs and into the dining room. Ian had ordered tonight to give them time together. Not that it had helped. He expectantly looked at them when they joined him. Sherlock didn't look at him anymore. It wasn't appropriate behaviour in the presence of his dom to look at somebody else.

“John, let me look at you.” Ian said and held him by his muscular arms. Sherlock stepped aside.

“What happened?” John looked up and their eyes met.

“Nothing too bad. It's over.” He shrugged and moved out of his grip. Ian looked at Sherlock who sat only after John had pulled out a chair for him. And he kept staring down. He didn't touch the food or anything without being told to.

Ian grounded his teeth but sat down, too. They ate in silence and Ian knew something was very, very wrong. But he also knew it would be hard to pry Sherlock away from John's side.

Something had changed. John had changed. It seemed like he was in shock. Ian needed to find out what had happened while John was away for his clean-up.

“You should know that Sherlock here has been extremely useful for me while you were gone. He helped me to find the people who cheated me and falsified my books.” Ian said looking at John.

“Really? That's good, isn't it?” John said. Sherlock didn't react at all.

“Yes, that's why I need to borrow him tomorrow for a few hours to finish it all. I hope that is OK with you?” Ian pleasantly smiled and John shrugged.

“Sure, take him. He will do it, won't you?” John said pushing his plate away.

“Yes, John.” Sherlock said. Ian became very, very angry but didn't show it. Yet.

“Very good. If you need anything, I will be in my office. Good night, John and Sherlock.” Ian stood.

“See you tomorrow.” John replied.

“Good night.” Sherlock said without even looking at him. Ian left.

“I am tired. I want you to join me in bed. Come on.” John slowly stood and Sherlock followed on his heels. He walked close behind his dom and closed the door to their bedroom.

Now John looked at him.

“What are you waiting for, pet? I missed you and now I want you!” John said and Sherlock swallowed. He quickly shed his clothes but folded them neatly. He didn't want his anger directed at him. Never again.

“Come here, slut.” Sherlock felt the cold penetrating his skin. His dom was back. The dom from the beginning.

Sherlock knelt and assumed the proper position in front of him. John's hand clawed into his hair and held his still thin wrists.

“You had a haircut. I like it. You look beautiful. But you did it even though I wasn't here. I bet he told you I agreed, am I right? And you believed him. You sure did.” John shook his head and then shook Sherlock. He made his scalp hurt but he suppressed every noise.

“I have to get you back in line. Your behaviour has changed and I don't like it. You need to know where you belong. But perhaps you still know it by heart? I mean, I have beaten it into you for quite some time, haven't I?”

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock knew by then that his dom was back.

“Tell me, slut.” He let go but his hand stayed.

“I belong on my knees before you, Master. I only talk when you want me to. I only take things when you allow me to. I am grateful for anything you will be feeding me whenever you want. I will obey whatever you wish for. Always.”

“Very good, bitch. You remember. I want you to suck me now. And no teeth!” John hissed and Sherlock at once took his massive cock between his lips.

He had really missed John and had wanted to please him. But not like this. He thought about the change while he licked and sucked and hallowed his cheeks.

Suddenly John pulled out and hit him flat-handed in the face. Sherlock almost fell but got a grip on himself.

“You are not fully concentrated on me and my wonderful cock. You keep thinking too much. And you know how I hate it, you being absent while being on duty for your Master. Perhaps you need a reminder?” Sherlock was close to tears and didn't reply.

“Get over to the bed. Chest on the mattress and the rest of your skinny body on your knees in front of it, slut.” Sherlock hurried and knelt with his chest on the bed. John followed him and opened the night-stand.

A pair of handcuffs was closed around his wrists and he closed them tight. Only then he pulled the t-shirt from the pile of clothes and tore it apart. He dropped the stripes on the bed beside him. He grabbed one ankle and pulled the sock from his foot.

He didn't speak a single word while he stuffed the sock half-way into his mouth. He bound a piece of fabric over it and muted Sherlock effectively. Next came a make-shift blindfold. And Sherlock froze. His dom wanted to hurt him and he didn't want Ian to know.

“Stay, slut!” He hissed into his ear and Sherlock became scared. But he had been tortured by his dom before. He knew what to expect and he gave in. He settled and waited.

He didn't have to wait long until John started to box him. Hard. Sherlock suppressed the noises as long as he could but then just had to groan into the fabric stuffed inside his mouth.

After some minutes of brutal beating, John parted his cheeks and pushed two fingers into him. Sherlock panted and tried to relax but didn't manage. He remembered pleasure but this was only pain given to him.

His dom worked quickly up to four fingers and Sherlock knew what he wanted to do. His body shook and he bit hard into the fabric. His dom kept fisting him, turned his wrist and opened his hand several times. Tears soaked the blindfold.

Sherlock actually didn't understand why his dom behaved like he did. He had done nothing wrong. John had approved of his actions here with Ian. Sherlock had read his texts. Ian had shown him.

Something must have happened to John while he was gone doing his clean-up. Something bad.

Suddenly John pulled out, way too fast, and grabbed the metal between the cuffs. They closed even tighter and hurt his skin. And then he fucked him. Hard and rough. His free hand scratched down his back and finally closed around his prick. He pressed hard and pulled too much. He only made him feel the pain. He also squelched his balls and Sherlock’s world became black.

But not for long. It could have been only a few seconds because soon enough he felt being fucked again. He got shoved against the bed and tried to relax. But it wasn't possible. He cried and sobbed and almost lost his mind.

Finally, his dom came into him and pulled out while doing so. He got on the bed and grabbed Sherlock’s head. He ripped off the gag and pushed his cock into his mouth. Sherlock choked and couldn't breathe. He face-fucked him for minutes. Actually, he face-fucked him until he lost his consciousness.

***

John stood beside the bed and looked at Sherlock. No, he had no name. He was his submissive. His sex-slave. This was the way it should be.

He looked at his body. He was bleeding out of his arse and mouth. His back was scratched open and there were bruises everywhere.

John was very pleased with himself.

And tomorrow he would punish him for letting his hair cut. But not here. He needed to get out of Ian's place and back into his own. Now, that he was safe again, after the clean-up, he could return and treat his slave the way he deserved. And he would return to calling him _it_.

He pulled his body off the bed and let him drop on the rug in front of it. The handcuffs stayed where they were.

John walked into the bath and took a long and hot shower before he went to bed. Completely relaxed.

***

Ian was extremely worried. John's behaviour was weird and so was Sherlock’s. But he knew that Sherlock simply wanted to adjust and please his dom.

But Ian had found that he liked Sherlock. He felt the need to protect him. And he knew John, knew how he could be and he didn't want Sherlock to get hurt. Well, not like that.

Finally, he did what he normally would never do. He switched on the camera inside the guest-room. It was a hidden camera and he hadn't told John about it.

He saw John in bed and asleep. But only John. Where was Sherlock? He chewed on his lips and moved the camera.

After a few seconds, he found him on his side on the rug.

“Oh, my God! John, what have you done?” Ian stood and he was beyond angry. And he did another thing he hoped he would never have to do. He had it installed though for his own safety. Just in case. And he pressed the button to activate the drugs streaming out of the tiny holes in the wall by the bed.

He waited long enough to be sure that John would be knocked out. Then he had it sucked out of the room and entered. Quickly he approached Sherlock and took off the handcuffs. His wrists were chafed open and bloody. He picked him up and carried him outside and into another room. Then he used his mobile and an app to lock the guest-room with John inside. Now the windows were closed and so was the door. John wouldn't be able to get out.

Ian got a first-aid kit and tended to Sherlock. Luckily, he didn't wake. But Ian's anger had grown over the minutes. He had to find out about the clean-up. He still had connections from his past and he would contact them.

And until then John would have to stay inside his room and he wouldn't let him out. He would protect Sherlock, no matter what.

***

Sherlock slowly woke and somehow the pain was dull. He still felt it but it was far away. He actually felt like he had taken drugs. He knew how that felt but it couldn't be. John wouldn't drug him.

He didn't move because he didn't want to wake his dom. He slowly and carefully turned his head but there was no one by his side. His dom wasn't in the bed. And this wasn't their guest-room, it was a different room.

He sat up and scrunched his eyes closed because of the pain. Only then he realised that someone had tended to him. There were bandages and he smelled ointment. The only person who could have done that was Ian.

Sherlock swallowed. He was grateful but it wouldn't help after all.

And now he needed to get up because he desperately needed the bath. Since his dom was not there, he dared and stood up. He slowly slumped inside and washed his hands afterwards. He also washed his face with cold water. Then he looked into the mirror. He quickly left the bath again.

And there he met Ian. He stood inside the room and looked at him. Sherlock looked back.

“What happened?” Ian asked. Sherlock swallowed.

“My dom happened. I don't know what happened to him but somehow, he has changed. He implied that you told me he approved of everything we did but he didn't like it at all, for instance, my hair being cut. He boxed me hard and he, well, you know what he did since you took care of me.” Sherlock exhaled and looked away.

“And I want you to know that I am extremely thankful for everything you did for me. My behaviour last night was like it was because my dom is back. He believes this is appropriate behaviour and I had no choice.” He pleadingly looked up.

“I know that, Sherlock. Come here and let me comfort you.” Ian held out his arms and smiled. Sherlock once sobbed and threw himself into his arms. He cried for a long time while being held by Ian.

Ian wondered if John had gone made while doing his clean-up. It certainly wasn't normal, his change of behaviour towards Sherlock.

After a while Sherlock had come down and Ian offered a Kleenex. He blew his nose and slumped in an armchair.

“Listen, my friend. You can't be close to your dom right now. It's too dangerous. I want you to stay away from him until I have found out what happened.”

“But I can't disobey him. He is my dom!” Sherlock sounded desperate. Ian became angry.

“Not now he is!” Sherlock hunched his shoulders and leant backwards. Ian held up a hand.

“Sorry, sorry... I believe you have seen it yourself. John has changed somehow. I yet don't know why and how this happened. But I will find out. Until then I would like to keep you safe.” Sherlock looked at his folded hands.

“He behaves just the way when he rented me. He only tortures and hurts me... I did nothing wrong, did I? But it doesn't matter anyway because he likes it. He likes to hurt me...” Sherlock shook his head.

“Come on, Sherlock. Let's go downstairs and sit in the library. We will have a drink and think about what to do.” Sherlock stood and limped along with Ian.

Ian looked at him and suddenly knew what he would do. He made Sherlock sit down and handed him a tumbler with whiskey. He also placed cigarettes on the table between them.

“Listen to me, my friend. I have an idea.” Sherlock already smoked and looked at him through the smoke.

“Yes?” Sherlock carefully asked.

“You have to get away from John for a while. You have seen where I work and how. I want you to stay there. Of course, I don't want you to work for me. Not like that, at least. But you already checked my books. You certainly could organise my business. Would you like that?” He looked at him.

“Yes, of course. But you can't take me away from my dom...” Sherlock shook his head.

“I'll be brutally honest then. You don't belong to him. You have been abducted from the streets. The agency kidnapped you and forced you into the sex-business. They do sex-trafficking. You have been trained and rented. Finally, John rented you and, in the end, he bought you. But in fact, you can do everything you want. You can leave him. You are not a slave and you know it. You are an intelligent man, Sherlock. You need to recognise who you really are.”

“I believe they brainwashed me. Sometimes I remember things, see faces of people I knew from before.” He looked at Ian.

“I could help you find them. You could return to your former life if you so wish.” Sherlock sipped his drink.

And then he smiled.

***

John raged like a maniac when he woke and found Sherlock gone and himself locked in. He screamed and yelled and threatened both Ian and Sherlock.

But Ian stayed consequent and kept him locked away. He used the narcotic to keep him calm when he brought him food. There was water in the bath. He still wasn't able to talk to him. He wouldn't listen.

Meanwhile, Sherlock had moved into Ian's workplace. He occupied his rooms there and was introduced as the new manager. Everyone simply accepted this and asked no question.

And he dove into the work to have something to do, to be busy. He didn't want to think about his dom. John. His owner. His tormentor. His lover?

Ian had stopped working to keep eyes on John and find out what happened. He had talked to several men of John's criminal organisation. He also tried to track Sherlock who was rather successful.

He had people everywhere, also amongst the police. And he paid a certain someone to have a look into the files there. Sherlock’s files were buried and blocked but the man found them. He gave them to Ian who read them all. Then he knew what to do.


	9. Chapter 9

“Sir, there is someone to see you.” Sergeant Donovan stood leaning against the frame of his office door. DCI Lestrade looked up.

“Who is it?” He asked but Sally just shrugged and ushered him in. Greg stood. His visitor was rather impressive. He closed the door behind him and came closer.

“Good morning, DCI Lestrade. My name is Ian Merchande and I need to talk to you about Sherlock Holmes.” Lestrade felt the cold creeping through this body. He stared at the man and found nothing suspicious about him.

He finally got a grip on himself and swallowed.

“Please, have a seat. Would you like a coffee or tea?” He asked but Ian shook his head and sat down in front of the desk.

“No, I urgently need to talk to you.”

“What do you know about the disappearance of Sherlock Holmes?” Greg asked leaning over his desk.

“Disappearance? He has been abducted by a sex-trafficking ring.” Greg paled beneath his natural tan.

“What?” Greg was shocked.

“How do you know that?” He asked. Ian nonchalantly shrugged.

“I found out. Never mind me. We have to take care of Sherlock.” He locked eyes with Greg and found he simply returned his stare. He was impressed. Was he as strong as he himself?

“Where is Sherlock? How is he?” Greg demanded an answer.

“Listen, this is sort of complicated to explain. I am endangering myself here but Sherlock has become my friend and I really want to help him.” Ian looked serious and relaxed into his chair.

“Fuck complicated, Mr Merchande. Tell me where the fuck Sherlock is!” Greg was very angry by now and Ian liked that. He cared for Sherlock and that was important.

Then he told him everything he knew. Greg never once interrupted him but after Ian had finished speaking, he stood and switched off the smoke detectors. And then he lit a cigarette offering them to Ian, too. He happily took one and they smoked.

“Sherlock always used to smoke here...” Greg suddenly said.

“But suddenly he dropped. Something must have happened because he returned to his drugs. He never returned into his flat. He lived on the streets. Sometimes I looked for him and gave him money and food. I knew it was wrong to give him money but I gave it to him anyway. His brother looked out for him, too. He tried to make him detox and brought him into rehab. But Sherlock escaped. Several times he did. And then he disappeared.” Greg sighed.

“And you never tried to find him?” Ian asked almost angrily.

“Of course, I tried to find him! What do you think?” Now he was angry, too.

“I really don't know what to think. I only know I found a friend who needs my help.” They both came down again.

“Do you know where he is?” Greg asked and Ian nodded.

“Yes, I do. He is with me. And now it gets complicated.” Greg looked questioningly and Ian explained. Greg listened.

After Ian was done, Greg tilted his head.

“Well, if you are a friend of Sherlock who wants to help, I don't care about brothels or such. I will come with you and see him but on my own. Privately. But I would like to tell his brother about it.”

“He once mentioned a brother...” Ian thoughtfully said.

“We are a couple, you know? And he misses his brother a lot. He will be beyond happy and support us.”

“Wouldn't he like to come along?” Ian asked but Greg shook his head.

“No, he can't be seen in such a place. His position with the British government does not allow that.” Ian raised a brow. There was a powerful brother in the mix. He could be helpful in the process.

“I see. When do you want to go?” Ian asked.

“As soon as possible. I just need to tell my sergeant. Then we can leave.” Greg stood and so did Ian. They left after a few minutes and rode into the garage together. They took Greg's police car and Ian directed him towards his place.

While driving Greg called Sherlock’s brother Mycroft. He answered after the first ring.

“Where are you going with Mr _Merchande_?” A voice asked coming out of the speakers. Somehow he pronounced the name in a rather weird way. Greg sighed.

“You are such a control freak, Myc.” He shook his head.

“If someone like Mr _Merchande_ appears in your office and you leave with him, well...” Ian grinned.

“There is no reason to be jealous, Mr Holmes.” He said and Mycroft huffed.

“Mr Merchande has found Sherlock. We are going to see him.” Greg simply said. There was no reply.

“Myc?” Greg asked. Then they heard him exhale and even swallow.

“You found him? What happened to him?” His voice was barely audible.

“I came to know him through a friend. Well, these days I am not sure he still is my friend. But Sherlock became my friend for real and he needs my help. I brought him into my place to keep him safe and busy. I promised to help him find his friends from before and here I am. He needs you, Mr Holmes.”

“Greg was smart enough to know I can't come into your place. I simply can't be seen there. We have to arrange a meeting somewhere else.”

“You don't want to take him home?” Greg asked the question Ian couldn't. There was silence again.

“Of course, I want to take him home with me! What do you think, Gregory?” Ian raised a brow and smiled.

“But perhaps Sherlock doesn't want to be with me after what happened?” He sounded sad.

“You only wanted to help. I believe by now he knows you have done the right thing.” Greg ensured him.

“We can hope for that. Please, go and see him. Talk to him and then talk to me. Perhaps he even would like to meet me. If not, we can't force him.” Now Ian interrupted.

“I think you can relax, Mr Holmes. I am convinced he will be happy to see Greg and hear about you, too. He will gladly agree to see his brother.” His voice was soft and calm and Greg admired him. And it worked.

“Thank you very much for coming up to us, Mr Merchande.” And he hung up.

“Well, this was more polite than I ever expected.” Greg said and stopped by the gate of Ian's workplace. He was bloody impressed. Ian leant over and looked into the camera. The gate was opened quickly and Greg drove up to the house. No, house wasn't the correct word for this building. It was more a palace or mansion.

“Nice place...” Greg said and Ian smiled nonchalantly.

“Well, yes. I had to work a lot for that in the past but now I am the boss.” They left the car and Ian led Greg inside and into a drawing-room. He offered him coffee or a drink and told him to smoke if he liked. But Greg denied. He only wanted to see Sherlock.

“I'll go and get him. Please, wait here.” Ian left and Greg stiffly sat in an armchair and waited. He would only relax after having seen Sherlock. He still really couldn't believe it. He really needed to see him, perhaps even hug him.

And there he was coming into the drawing-room. Sherlock Holmes. Greg slowly stood. He didn't show how shocked he was. Sherlock was too thin, almost malnourished. His skin was sickly coloured and his moves were slow. But his eyes lightened up when he saw him. He walked faster and faster until he almost ran up to him.

Greg only had to spread his arms wide and embrace him. He hugged him tight and Sherlock groaned but didn't let go. Greg looked around Sherlock’s body and Ian pulled a face. Greg loosened his grip.

“Sherlock, I am so happy to have finally found you!” Greg exclaimed. Sherlock still clung to him but didn't speak.

“Sit with Greg and talk, Sherlock. If you need something you know where to find me or get it.” Ian left the room.

Sherlock sat down and at once took a cigarette. Then he expectantly looked at Greg.

“Mr Merchande told me how he got to know you, Sherlock. I don't know what to say. I only want to help you. And I am not alone.” Greg said. Sherlock tilted his head.

“I am happy to see you, Greg. Now I know I can get my life back.” He deeply inhaled.

“You should know that I am with Myc now. I supported him when you had disappeared. I am in love with him.” Now Sherlock stared at him and then gulped down the whiskey he had poured for them.

“This is unexpected...” Sherlock said and topped up his drink. But then he carefully looked at Greg.

“But I am very happy for you both. He deserves a good man...” Then he cast his eyes and his eyes were wet. Greg reached out for him and placed his palm on his thigh.

“And so, do you. You deserve everything but the things that happened to you. Please, let us help. Agree to meet your brother and talk to him.” Sherlock had tensed and looked at his hand on his leg. Slowly Greg pulled it away.

“He won't take me away again against my will, right? You will take care of that, right?” Sherlock asked.

“I promise you that.” Greg smiled and it relaxed Sherlock.

“Will he even be happy to see me again after all what happened? I could cause him great disturbances because of my past.” Sherlock chewed on his lips.

“What happened wasn't your fault and he knows that. I talked to him on the phone when we were driving here and he was very moved. He will be extremely happy to see you again.” Greg assured him.

“I still can't believe it...” Sherlock whispered and lit another cigarette. Greg did the same and they sat in silence for a while until Ian reappeared.

“I arranged a late lunch for us. Come on, you know you have to eat, Sherlock, my friend.” Sherlock stood at once and looked at Greg.

“Please, join us.” Greg quickly stood.

“Sure thing. I haven't had breakfast this morning.” They walked over into the dining room and sat down. A maid brought the food and they ate.

“And are you going to see your brother, Sherlock?” Ian curiously asked. Sherlock looked at him.

“Yes. Greg told me a lot and I think I really could get my life back and the much-needed protection.”

“Why do you need protection?” Greg asked and Sherlock looked at his plate. Then he looked at Ian and raised a brow.

“May I tell him, Sherlock?” He just nodded and kept looking down. Now Greg became worried and helplessly looked at Ian.

Ian exhaled and then started to talk and explain. Meanwhile, they kept eating and drinking. But the longer Ian talked, the less Greg ate. In the end, he pushed his plate away and drank the wine. Damn the car outside.

Greg was shocked to the bones. If only he had known... Ian simply talked about Sherlock’s injuries and just everything and he wasn't sure that Mycroft should know everything. He surely would arrange something to happen to John Watson.

Suddenly Ian pulled his mobile from his pocket.

“Excuse me, I have to take this.” He listened and stilled completely. Then he closed his eyes for a second and muttered a reply in a language Greg didn't understand. It sounded a bit like French that he actually understood. But it must be some strange dialect from an area unknown to him.

“What happened?” Sherlock asked and Greg was curious, too. It couldn't be good.

“John Watson managed to escape. He killed a maid and hurt security on his way out. He took a car and is gone.” Sherlock considerably paled and desperately looked at him.

“He will kill me. What are we going to do?” His hands started to shake and Greg felt utterly helpless.

“I assume you don't need the assistance of the authorities?” He asked just in case. Ian's smile was rather tight.

“No, not really. I am sorry, DI Lestrade. I am causing problems for you.”

“No, you don't. Let me call Myc. He can send people who protect Sherlock and take him somewhere safe. You too if you like.” But Ian shook his head.

“No, I will face him if necessary. But you will take Sherlock away. It's for the better.” Now Sherlock looked up.

“You are sending me away?” He asked and his eyes teared up.

“Please, my friend, just think about it. You aren't safe here anymore. Please, go with Greg and be with your brother. It seems he can grant the much-needed protection.”

In the meantime, Greg had pulled out his mobile and called Mycroft. He quietly explained the situation and he promised to send a team at once. He asked them to stay where they were and be careful.

After he had ended the call, the only thing they could do was to wait for them to pick up Sherlock who looked extremely scared. Even Ian wasn't able to calm him and he badly swore but only secretly.

Mycroft's team was fast and soon two cars stopped directly in front of the mansion.

“It's time, Sherlock. Let's go.” They stood and Ian opened the door to let them out. Greg checked the surroundings but didn't see anything suspicious.

Greg and Sherlock sat in the back of one car and Ian hugged him before they left. Sherlock was both sad and scared. Both cars raced away. They drove over the country-roads.

After a sharp turn there was a tree over the street and the driver had to hit the brakes hard. The breath got pressed out of their lungs when they were held back by the seatbelts.

They were behind the first car and there two men left the car and looked at the tree. Suddenly there was blood and they dropped dead on the road.

“Fuck!” Greg swore and Sherlock knew it was John.

“Stay inside!” The driver hissed and pulled his weapon. Greg got his, too. Sherlock’s head moved from right to left and back but wasn't able to see anything.

“Get behind the wheel and drive backwards!” Sherlock called out but Greg shook his head.

“I can't start the car. Only the driver can. It's a matter of security.”

“Then we have to run and hide.” Sherlock wanted to get out of the car but got stopped.

“No, don't.” But Sherlock pulled his arm free.

“He won't kill me. Stay with me. We have to try. In here we are sitting ducks. John will surely have weapons to break through even this car.” Greg locked eyes with Sherlock and then nodded.

“OK, get out and run into the woods. I will follow.” Sherlock pushed open the door suddenly bursting with energy. He was able to hear several plops and saw bullets hitting the street by his side. But he simply ran and jumped into the ditches by the road. He crawled a few metres and then disappeared into the trees. Only then he turned his head to look for Greg but he wasn't behind him.

Sherlock suddenly felt very cold. Had Greg been shot? Had John killed Greg?

“Oh, God...” He whispered but knew it would be stupid to go back and have a look. Instead, he threw himself forward and kept running. Small branches hit his face on the way but he didn't stop.

Then came the voice.

“You can't escape, slut. You stand no chance. You should know better.” Sherlock was shocked and stumbled. He fell hard but got up again quickly. He was dirty and surely bruised but he didn't stop. His breath was coming hard and fast and he knew he wasn't as fit as he once was.

And his dom laughed somewhere close by.

***

Greg had started to run after Sherlock but got hit by something. It stuck in his back and he couldn't reach it. He knew by heart it wasn't a bullet that had hit him. He very well knew how it felt to get shot and how a bullet inside his body felt.

And then he felt it. He swore and stumbled a few feet more. He still could see Sherlock run but then everything got foggy before his eyes and he fell hard on the ground. It was wet and dirty. He only managed to turn his head to not choke on the soil and then he was gone.

The last thing he heard and saw was a pair of legs clad in camouflage passing by. Then the world became dark.

***

John didn't kill the DCI. He could have but right now he held the tranquillizer gun and it was more important to go after Sherlock. Surely, he could have killed him with his bare hands but he felt more like going after his slave. The bloody policeman wasn't important. And he could always kill him after he had secured the bitch. His bitch.

He chased him for a good while to have some fun. He chased him until Sherlock wasn't able to run anymore. He only crawled over the earthy soil and panted roughly. John wondered about the fight still left in him and admired him a little bit. Of course, he would beat the fight out of him soon enough.

Finally, he had him. He slowly approached him with a pleasant smile on his face. Sherlock knew his different expressions. And he knew what to expect.

John lifted the gun and shot him. Sherlock’s eyes widened in shock but he was so thin the dart worked quickly. He slumped and his eyes closed. John slung the gun over his shoulder and easily picked up his submissive. He walked through the woods and didn't feel the weight.

He had found out about Sherlock’s powerful brother. But John's connections were good, very good. And he found out about everything. His well-paid traitor was holding back the team right now and would also lead it in the wrong direction. John would get away with Sherlock and treat him the way he needed and deserved it.

He reached his car and threw him into the trunk. He would sleep for a while and wouldn't wake up until John had reached his new place.

***

Greg slowly woke. He felt dizzy and sick. His head felt like bursting. Even his brain seemed to pulse and scratch against the inside of his skull. He groaned and very slowly and carefully sat up. At once he retched and turned his head. After he had emptied his stomach, he felt a bit better and got to his knees.

Then he heard the noises. They were calling out for him and he tried to answer. It took him a few trials but then he yelled for help. Soon Mycroft's men burst through the trees and there were medicals, too. They helped him back to the street after a quick examination. He still felt utterly weak and slumped against the side of a car. He had resisted being put on the stretcher, did not want to rest on it and be taken away. He had a job to do. He had to find Sherlock.

He felt awful. Not because of the drug that had hit him but because of Sherlock. Dr Watson had taken Sherlock and now he would hurt him, take revenge, and make him his slave again. Would they be able to find him?

Greg rubbed over his tired eyes and swayed on the spot. Then he heard the voice. Myc's voice.

“Greg? Greg!” Someone ran towards him and pushed security and medicals out of the way. When he had finally reached him, he carefully touched him. He looked extremely worried but that expression very soon turned into anger and rage.

Greg didn't dare to look at him.

“I know, Myc. I don't know what to say except sorry. I lost Sherlock. It's my fault...” But Mycroft cupped his face with his large hands and thin fingers stroked over his cheekbones.

“Nonsense. I am angry because of John Watson. I was so scared when I heard and I had to come here. I needed to see you myself. That you are alive.” He only whispered the words.

“You are not angry with me?” Now Greg carefully looked up and met his blue-grey steely eyes.

“I feared the worst. Now we will go home and you will get well again. Then we will find John Watson and Sherlock. And finally, I will kill the man myself.” He hissed the words and his men turned their heads. This was their boss being extremely angry and pissed and he showed it to the outside. That meant nothing good for the person his anger was directed at.

“We will go home, yes. But there one of your witch doctors will give me something, so I will feel much better and instantly get my energy back. Then we will go and find your brother. And when we get to John Watson, I will hold him down while you kick the living shit out of him!” His dark-brown eyes were even darker now and Mycroft was very surprised. He hadn't yet seen this side of Gregory but he found it extremely arousing.

Mycroft helped him into his car and they rode away. He typed something into his mobile and when they arrived at his place, the doctor just drove up, too.

Greg was ushered into the bedroom and for the first time, he felt like a stranger in here. He had been in here several times before and they always had a good time. But today was different.

“I really don't advice a strong drug to keep you going, DI Lestrade.” The doctor shook his head while Mycroft leant against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Why not? What could happen?” Greg asked. The doctor slowly exhaled.

“Well, at first you will feel full of energy. You will burst with it. But after a certain time, it will fade and your breakdown will be hard. You will be weak for quite a time. I really have to warn you.” The doctor looked serious. Still, Mycroft didn't intervene.

“How long will the effect last?” The doctor looked at him again and estimated it quietly.

“I would say one day and a half.” Greg nodded.

“Very good. Give me the injection and leave another. We have to find Sherlock.” He stared at the man who turned to look at Mycroft for help. He really looked thoughtful and rather worried but he knew Gregory for a long time now and knew how stubborn he could be.

“I will look after him.” Greg relaxed and smiled at him. The doctor sighed but did what he wanted.

“Please, eat something before you dash away. And see to have water close by. A lot of water.” Greg just nodded and got out of bed. He felt a bit better already.

The doctor left and Mycroft approached him. They looked at each other.

“I am still dirty and smelly. Let me shower. Then we can talk about what to do.” Greg quietly said and smiled.

“Very well. I will be downstairs in my office. Come and join me when you are ready. You will find suitable clothes in my wardrobe.” And gone he was.

“What?” Greg quietly said into nothing and shook his head. Then he shed his soiled clothes and took a hot shower. Afterwards, he padded back into the bedroom and opened Mycroft's wardrobe. On one side there were several suits and shirts his size and he raised a brow. He also found jeans and t-shirts, socks, and shoes.

“Bloody hell...” He swore but chose a jeans and shirt, both dark. He took socks and combat boots, as well. He stepped back into the bedroom and wanted to pick up the dirty clothes but they were gone.

He hurried downstairs and into Mycroft's office. He approached him and stood before his desk looking at him.

“You know my name is Greg, right?” Mycroft looked up and looked confused.

“Of course, I do know that.” He replied in a very careful manner.

“Then why are you treating me like your _Ken_?” He asked. The look of confusion didn't leave Mycroft's face. He clearly had no idea what Greg was talking about. It was almost adorable.

“You have a full wardrobe of clothes for me upstairs!” Greg said and Mycroft shrugged.

“Yes? Is it forbidden to care of one's boyfriend? Do you think it perverted?” Now he looked smug and Greg slanted his eyes.

“Once no and then half a yes. But we will talk about it again after we have found your brother.” Mycroft nodded.

“Very good, Gregory. I will tell you what I have found out in the meantime, shall I?” He asked.

“Please, Myc, please do so.” Greg replied and came around the desk to look at the screen with him.

“My team found traces of a car by the forest and footsteps leading towards it. There were tiny blood spots and we could extract Sherlock’s DNA. Another team also checked through Mr Merchande's home and found that Dr Watson had help from the outside. His men were rather brutal and so was he when leaving. They left dead people behind and destroyed a lot. Dr Watson is not stable and we have to move quickly.”

“He was all by himself in the woods. The last thing I saw was a pair of legs dressed in camouflage before I passed out.” They looked at each other.

“I do think he had help. Help from the inside. Meaning from here.” Mycroft leant back into his deck-chair.

“Are you implying I have a traitor amongst my team?” He incredulously asked.

“Yes, I am implying exactly that. How else do you explain he knew where to find Sherlock?” Mycroft still stared at him but he finally nodded.

“You are correct, of course. I will get Anthea at once. She can do the research.” He called her and it took her half an hour to get there.

“DCI Lestrade, Sir, we have found a trace. A small plane left a private airfield and the description fit both this Dr Watson and Sherlock.”

“Where did they go?” Greg asked.

“Their plan said Inverness but he could have lied.” Anthea said.

“He doesn't care if we know or not. He believes he holds the power. He went to Inverness.” Greg said.

“It's our only lead anyway. We are going to Scotland, too.” Mycroft stood.

“Arrange everything necessary. I also need you to find the traitor.” Now her eyes widened.

“Traitor? Here?” Greg nodded and explained. She became angry.

“Sit here. Use my office. You know how to reach me.” Mycroft told her.

“Yes, Sir.” She knotted her hair and stuck one of his extremely expensive pens through the knot. Then she sat down.

Mycroft and Greg walked back upstairs and Greg took the second injection for later. Mycroft opened a secret door in the wall Greg hadn't known about. Curiously Greg came closer and looked inside. There were weapons. A lot of weapons. And a lot of gadgets Greg had never seen but only heard about. He was impressed.

“You have never seen this.” Mycroft said pulling several items from the cupboards.

“Seen what exactly?” Greg grinned and took some more. They left the house soon after and entered the already waiting car. They rode to Heathrow and entered a private plane. It actually was a Lear jet and Greg looked around curiously.

“Why does the government give you a Lear jet?” He sat fastening his seatbelt.

“This is my private plane.” Mycroft replied not looking at Greg.

“Oh...” Greg stared at him. It seemed he didn't know a lot about Mycroft Holmes after all.

After the take-off Mycroft got on his mobile and checked messages and typed some himself. Greg really didn't know what to do and therefore just closed his eyes.

“Gregory?” He opened his eyes again after a few minutes and looked at Mycroft.

“Hm?” He smiled at him and his calm relaxed Mycroft, too.

“We know where he is.” Greg sat up straight.

“Really? Anthea must be a fairy godmother!” He exclaimed and Mycroft just tilted his head.

“She simply used facial recognition and checked every database possible. We have a positive ID on both Dr Watson and Sherlock. He was in a wheelchair being pushed by Dr Watson.”

“What are we going to do?” Greg asked

“At first we will set up camp. We will meet my team and plan the attack.” Mycroft said.

“But what about the traitor?” Greg asked.

“He has been found. He was arrested already and stays in a military prison. Never mind him. I will take care of him later.” Greg didn't ask more.

The plane touched down. They had reached Inverness.

***

Sherlock had thought John would fire a bullet but instead, he felt the dart piercing his skin. He was gone in seconds and the last thing he saw was the pleasant smile on his dom's face.

He slowly woke and groaned. The ground beneath him was hard and cold. The place was dark and he blinked several times until he was able to see shadows. He carefully felt over his body and found he was naked.

He swallowed but what else did he expect? There were no cuffs or ropes or anything else on him. Yet.

Probably, John waited until he was awake again to really enjoy putting them on him. Back on him. Plus, he would enjoy letting him sit in the dark being scared to death.

Sherlock slowly sat up and felt around but there was nothing. He carefully made a few steps until his hands touched a wall. He followed it and found a metal door. It had no handle or window. He kept walking once around the room.

Both the walls and the floor were wet. Soon he felt cold and had to ground his teeth to stop them from chattering.

He needed to stay calm and do what John wanted. He wasn't to panic and had to trust both his brother and Greg to save him.

Of course, he knew that John would hurt him. He would rape him and do unspeakable things to him. It would be extremely painful and humiliating.

Sherlock knew that something must have happened to John while he did his clean-up. He probably cracked and changed back to the person he was when he got Sherlock from the agency.

Sherlock didn't believe he was acting when he let him top him or was kind to him. Perhaps he would manage to get back the John Watson he loved. He could try at least.

Suddenly the door slowly opened and Sherlock stilled. John entered the room and his eyes shone in the dark.

“Bitch, you are up! Don't you remember what proper behaviour means?” He asked tilting his head.

“Forgive me, Master.” And Sherlock knelt. His hands got folded on his nape and he looked down. John crept closer and hummed rather pleased. He circled Sherlock several times until his fingers clawed into his hair.

“And what happened to your wonderful hair? Who did this horrible thing to you? Who allowed you to have it done?” He shook his head and continued to speak after a minute.

“It made me angry after I have come back from my clean up. I wanted to make love to you but how could I make love to you the way you look now?” He sadly shook his head. Then he shook Sherlock’s head.

Sherlock didn't make a sound. He felt his scalp prickle and some of his hair was ripped out.

“When undressing you, I decided to give you both nipple rings and a Prince Albert. I love the look! These will make up for your ugly hairstyle. So, don't you worry, my dear.” He quietly giggled.

“Let's start right away, shall we? I really need to remind you of your place. I need you to know!” He yelled the last sentence and kicked him in the back. Sherlock fell forward and huffed out his breath.

John reached into his pocket and pulled out a collar. He put it around Sherlock’s neck and he froze.

“You remember this one, don't you? This is new and improved, much better than the one before. This one is heavier. It is also connected to my mobile. I am able to send electric impulses right into your neck. Trust me, the one from before was child's play.” He darkly laughed.

“Now move!” He kicked his thigh and Sherlock crawled by his side being kicked several times on their way. They reached another room and Sherlock wondered where they were. The walls were made from old bricks and it also was clammy and wet. They reached a torture chamber like in the middle-ages.

“Now I will punish you. At first, I thought about cutting your vocal cords to shut you up forever but I want to hear you scream. Of course, I will fuck you, too. And you will never enjoy what I am doing to you. Never again you will have an orgasm except dry and painful ones.” He loudly laughed and Sherlock was sure that John had become insane.

“And now the fun begins!” He loudly exclaimed and picked metal cuffs from a box on a wooden bench. He closed them around his wrists and ankles. They snapped closed and they were heavy.

Next, he got chained to the wall with his arms up and his legs spread. John once boxed him into his ribs and made him groan.

He picked another device from the box and lowered his body towards his cock and balls. It was a stainless-steel cage that fully covered his testicles and partly his cock. The head stayed free so he could piss.

“You can imagine that everything metal I put on you does carry electricity. I improved everything. You should also know that it will never come off again. Never ever.” Sherlock terribly froze.

“Now I am going to make you beautiful again.” And he brought the device to pierce him. He also brought nipple rings and the Prince Albert. Sherlock wondered how he would fit it through the cage.

“Let's start with your nipples.” Sherlock knew what to expect and steeled himself for the pain. He loudly groaned when it was done and the rings hung heavily. They were heavy he panted. John flicked them and he shouted out his pain.

“Yes, I thought so.” John grinned and fiddled with the cage. Something moved and out of bleary eyes, Sherlock could see that the head was fully exposed. He really had invented something nasty. The ring got inserted and now he screamed and cried. The head got almost covered again and a penis-plug was put inside, too. Metal again.

“Yes, come on. I want to hear you...” He flicked all the rings again and Sherlock let it all out. He screamed his lungs out while John alternately boxed and flicked.

When he had enough, he took a whip from the wall and stood a few metres away. He shook it out and then started to hit him.

“I want you to count, slut!” He yelled and hit his thigh. Sherlock screamed out the number.

“And what did you forget, slave?” The next hit his stomach. Sherlock again screamed the number and thanked him. There was blood already and surely there would be scars forming.

John hit him ten times and Sherlock’s voice was rough. His face was blotchy and he cried and sobbed. But he also counted and thanked his dom. John actually looked very pleased and dropped the whip.

He got him off the wall and let him fall down. He towered above him.

“You know what I want...” He whispered freeing his huge cock. He was rock hard already. Sherlock groaned and got on hands and knees. His body shook and blood ran over his white skin.

John knelt behind him and grabbed his hips. He lined up.

“Have you really forgotten everything I taught you?” He pressed a finger into a welt and Sherlock screamed again.

“Please, take me, Master! I need it! I missed you and your massive cock inside my arse! I am your slut. I am your whore! Please, fuck me, Master!” He panted and John laughed.

“Nice, very nice indeed.” And he pushed inside. Sherlock almost dropped but managed to stay on his hands and knees. The pain was crucial. He knew he would make him bleed. He would tear him apart.

And he fucked him hard. He shoved him over the stones and his knees were bleeding, too. He came rather quickly and filled him up. He made no sound at all. He pulled out and Sherlock groaned. He trembled and his eyes were closed.

John shoved a thick plug into his behind. Everything he used on him was metal. He could torture him to death with the electric devices.

“Who am I and what are you?” John whispered into his ear.

“You are my Master and I am nothing except what you want me to be.” Sherlock whispered.

“Very good! Very inventive! I like it!” He cruelly laughed and cuffed his wrists on his lower back. He pulled him up on his knees and pulled a mask over his head. He pushed the penis-plug into his mouth and covered it. He buckled it tight and the thing almost touched his throat. He needed to concentrate on his breathing and swallowing or he would choke and retch and suffocate. Next came the blindfold. All his senses were gone.

He got kicked and moved into the direction he was shoved. He fell down twice and fell on his front. And he had to retch but managed to swallow it down.

He was in severe pain when he was kicked into a cage and hit the bars. The cage was small. He had to pull up his legs and hunch his body. He would cramp soon. He already needed to pee.

He couldn't hear him anymore but he felt him. He poked him with a prod and his body jerked against the bars. It hurt too much and he couldn't hold it. He pissed into the cage and got hurt some more.

Finally, he seemed to have left and Sherlock relaxed against the bars. He was so cold. He also was hungry and thirsty. He knew he would be for a very long time. He wondered how long he could survive.

What had happened to his dom? This behaviour wasn't normal. Perhaps he was lost forever but perhaps he wasn't. Sherlock still had feelings for him, he couldn't help it.

He fell asleep and dreamed of his good times with his dom. John.


	10. Chapter 10

Mycroft's team had set up camp inside a hangar directly at the airport of Inverness. Greg was impressed because of the power Mycroft was holding. He actually had had no idea. Sherlock had often made jokes about it earlier but Greg had never taken it seriously. Well, now he had.

They entered a cut off place inside the hangar. They actually had built up a tent in there with lots of computers and other stuff Greg had never seen before. He followed Mycroft and they stepped up to an officer who saluted Mycroft and nodded to him. At least he wasn't ignored.

“We know where they are, Sir. We have found the place Dr Watson holds your brother hostage.” He pointed over to a rather large screen. It showed an old castle in the middle of nowhere. It would be hard to approach.

Beside the image of the castle, numbers were running over the screen. Greg had no idea what they meant.

“Get someone like a historian over here as quickly as possible. Tell them he or she is needed because of national security. We need to know everything about this place. Secret rooms, caves beneath it or tunnels leading to and from it. The water is close. There will probably be old ways having been used to smuggle goods and people. Move!” The officer saluted again and got on the mobile.

“We should change.” Mycroft suddenly said.

“What?” Greg looked up at him.

“I want to join my troops when they are going in. Feel free to come along. I know you want. We need suitable clothes and armour to do so.” Mycroft was serious. Greg was able to see that. He swallowed.

“I really don't want to have look after both of you and Sherlock when we get to him.” Greg was very worried.

“Then don't.” It came out a bit harsh and Greg's eyes widened.

“What I meant to say was, you don't have to. I am very well capable to join them.” He smiled a bit lopsided.

“I trust you...” They held their hands for a few seconds and then Mycroft led the way. They changed and when Greg looked at Mycroft, he was extremely surprised. Well, both surprised and attracted. Mycroft in uniform and armour was something to look at. And the weapons being strapped to his body. God! He licked over his lips and suddenly their eyes met.

Mycroft looked confused again. Then he looked down his body and up again. Greg slowly approached him.

“You have to take this uniform home after we are done here. Promise me...” He roughly whispered.

“Only if you bring yours as well.” Mycroft let his eyes roam over Greg clad in uniform. They stared into each other's eyes standing only a hairs-width away from each other.

“We are ready to leave, Sir!” An officer called out from outside but didn't enter. Greg made a step back and exhaled.

“Let's go and free Sherlock!” His face hardened and Mycroft only nodded. On their way out they grabbed their helmets. They walked through the hangar and climbed into a helicopter that was waiting outside.

***

Sherlock had no idea for how long he stuck in that cage. His body kept cramping and the tiny moves he was able to make weren't enough. The bars stood too close to shove his foot or leg between. Every part of his body hurt. The bars pressed into his welts and he kept bleeding. He felt extremely weak.

He got shocked out of his state when John poured cold water over him. His body jerked and hit the bars. He rudely pulled him out and threw him on the ground. He roughly ripped off the mask and forced water into him. And Sherlock drank the few he was given. And he didn't forget to thank his dom for the water he provided.

“I want to see if you can still do your wonders, bitch. Up on your knees!” Sherlock’s hands were still cuffed on his lower back but he somehow managed to pull his long legs under and get up. John opened his zip and his massive cock sprang free.

“And what do you have to think of, slut?” He hissed. Sherlock cleared his throat.

“No teeth, Master.” He roughly replied and John patted his head.

“Very good, cock-slut. You do remember. My training couldn't have been for nothing.” He grinned.

Sherlock opened up wide and he started to work on him. His dom stood still and waited. Sherlock really tried his very best and he knew what to do. He felt the flesh grow and reach his throat. He swallowed and forced his head further. His nose touched skin and now he heard him groan with lust and his fingers came up and into his hair. He held him in position and he could barely breathe through his nose.

He knew what was coming up and relaxed his head and mouth and everything. He took him by the ears and shoved him back and forth until he came. Sherlock concentrated and managed the amount of cum being shot down his throat.

He was thrown to the ground afterwards and he breathed raggedly.

“I am pleased now. You made it. You are still the best cock-slut I ever had.” He circled him several times.

“Well, I want you to clean up and get dressed. Then you will come upstairs. I want to show you around. Come along.” Sherlock got up on hands and knees and crawled by his dom's side. He didn't feel his knees anymore. Everything was dulled and foggy. It was for the best.

He was brought into a bath and John stayed while he washed up. Afterwards, he was given clothes that made him look like a nurse. Or a patient in an asylum. They were off-white and scratched his skin.

“You may walk. Crawling takes too long and we have an agenda.” John said and Sherlock slowly followed him through the rooms.

“This will be your place for the time being.” Sherlock looked into a place that was more a closet. He swallowed and thanked him for the place. He needed to appease his dom until someone came for him.

“This is our dining-room.” There was a round table with one chair and another one with leather belts and a force-feeding construction. He thanked him again for being fed.

“And this is one of your work-places.” They stood inside a lab. Over the ceiling there were thick wires and Sherlock knew he would be hooked to them. He could walk through the room that way but could never escape.

The other place he was shown was the kitchen. There were also wires on the ceiling.

“There are cameras everywhere. You will never know when I watch. And if I see something I don't like, you know what will happen. I will shock you through your collar. I will shock you through the cage. Your precious cock and balls might get a bit roasted in the process. You better behave, bitch!” John grinned.

“Yes, Master. I will do everything you want, Master. I will give my very best and more for you, my dom.” Sherlock whispered. John looked at him and tilted his head.

“Why?” He simply asked and his whole expression had changed somehow.

“I need you, Master. I need my caring dom. I still love you very much, Master.” Several seconds passed without a reaction but then John pushed Sherlock against the wall. He groaned. His back hurt and he felt the welts bleeding again. John pulled his head down and kissed him. Hard, rough, and wet. They were sloppy kisses. He also kept touching him everywhere, but soon his hands were in his hair, and he forced his head down.

Sherlock gave in and just let him. He got aroused but soon his prick hurt inside the metal contraption. The same happened to his testicles. It hurt worse than the scars or the rings. It was a horrid pain and he groaned. Tears spilt but John kept kissing him.

***

The helicopter had landed a mile away from the castle. It was shielded by a hill and couldn't be seen from there. The troops got out and with them came Mycroft and Greg.

They were close to the sea and Greg looked over the edge. There were old stairs being cut out of the stones. The commanding officer stepped up.

“Yes, we will be going down there. We have found a secret entrance to the castle used by pirates in the past.” A smile came up on Greg's face.

“Sherlock will like that.” Then he straightened up and looked at Mycroft. Soon they all climbed down. They reached a cave and it was wet. They had torches and kept walking. Before they went into the tunnel leading up to the castle, Greg wondered about guards.

“We watched the castle for several hours, actually since we found him here. There were guards at first but never down here. John Watson had sent them away except for two guards by the door who are probably supposed to alert him when anyone approaches.” Greg nodded.

“What about secret alarms?” He asked looking around.

“We have to be careful. Our tech specialist will move first. He has a detector who will show us electric lines and such.” Greg inhaled and checked his weapons. So, did everybody else. Mycroft stood by his side.

“You will stay behind me, Myc. There will be no discussion about it.” Greg stared at him.

“No, Sir!” Mycroft mock-saluted him but the expression in his eyes spoke something different. The officer was surprised but secretly smiled. He had just wanted to say the same. But Sir Holmes wouldn't have listened to him as he listened to that DI from Scotland Yard who just kept surprising him.

He hadn't been happy at all when realising both Sir Holmes and DI Lestrade would join them. But he had clearly underestimated them. Mostly his commander, Sir Holmes. He had heard rumours about his past but that was the past. The way he moved though and looked over them was something else. It told him a lot and he was secretly pleased to be under his command.

They entered the passage-way and slowly moved forward. They passed several alarms and made it to the door into the castle. Greg was bathed in sweat. He needed his second injection. He fell back a bit and reached for his pocket.

“Let me.” Mycroft said and held out his hand. Greg looked up and finally accepted. He handed over the syringe and Mycroft pricked him into his thigh. It took a few seconds but then he was back for good. He didn't want to think about the aftermath. Not now. He had other things to think about.

Mycroft had given the order to kill John Watson on sight. There was no risk to be taken. Sherlock was more important than to interrogate the insane dom.

They stood behind the door and the man in the front carefully moved a camera beneath the wood. Behind him stood a man holding a tablet. The hall was free. There was no guard to be seen, no dogs running around. It was empty.

“Go!” The commanding officer ordered and they quietly opened the door. They sprayed some fluid over the metal and quietly pulled it open. They hurried inside and parted on the way. In seconds they had disappeared inside the castle.

Mycroft followed a team upstairs while Greg followed someone another stair down into the basement. The research team had found out about old cells and a dungeon, a torture chamber even.

Before John Watson had rented this place, it had been a public place, a heritage site. Visitors could roam the place and had to pay a fee to enter the premises. This was over and done with now.

They all had earpieces and were able to communicate with each other or listen to what happened.

Downstairs they checked every cell and chamber they found. They found the cage and smelled the urine. They found blood and the whip. Greg swallowed and felt the rage rolling through his body.

When they had checked through the basement, he turned to the soldier and pointed towards the ceiling. He nodded and they returned. They moved upstairs.

***

The team upstairs had to be very quiet and careful. They had detected body-warmth in one room and now even heard him speak. Mycroft felt calm and collected. If possible, he would make his death worthwhile. If not, he would simply shoot him.

They moved up to the door and listened in.

“Several days have passed and your behaviour is spotless. You are still able to cook wonderful meals. You are still worthy to be fucked by me. You still are my beautiful submissive. I really missed you, slut.” Then there was a break.

Mycroft stopped them going in. Something was going to happen in there. They kept listening.

“I have to leave you for a while. You will have to stay in your closet. I will make sure to be back in time. I will also make sure you won't be bored.” Now he giggled.

Mycroft wondered about Sherlock and why they weren't able to hear his voice. But probably he was gagged.

They heard footsteps and a door being opened and closed again. They quickly disappeared from the aisle and were gone when John Watson left the room. He walked towards the stairs and Mycroft lifted his rifle. He exhaled and pulled the trigger. There was no question about it. He hit him right in the middle and the bullet's force pushed him forward and down the stairs.

“Go after him and secure what's left! I'll go and get my brother.” Several men dashed after John Watson and Mycroft hurried into the room. Another soldier ran after him.

***

Greg heard the shot and looked up. John Watson fell down the stairs. Step after step he bumped on the stones and ended up at the end almost directly by his feet. And he didn't bleed; he only groaned. From upstairs soldiers came running and Greg made a step back. Why wasn't he bleeding?

Slowly he got up on his knees and his mad blue eyes stared at Greg.

“You... Fuck you! I should have killed you when I had the chance! You won't take him away from me! You simply won't! He is mine!” John yelled and tried to attack.

Greg just lifted his gun and shot. He hit his thigh and he fell. His leg simply gave way and he dropped. But still he tried to get up and move. Greg kicked him in the stomach and by then knew why he didn't bleed from the first bullet. He was wearing some sort of bullet-proof vest beneath his sweater.

But his thigh hadn't been protected. He was strongly bleeding and Greg very much wanted to end it here and now. But he knew he was Myc's.

Two soldiers secured him and stripped him almost bare to check for secret weapons. They found the mobile which wasn't secured and handed it over to Greg. He turned it between his fingers and had an idea what the opened app was for.

“Do not leave his side. I'll go upstairs.” The soldiers nodded. In the meantime, the guards outside by the door had been shot and there was no one else around except them.

Greg hurried upstairs and found one door open. A soldier was rummaging through the room and Mycroft stood by another door leading into a closet.

***

Sherlock had somehow survived several days of torture and rape. He had tried to ensure his dom about his love and devotion and it seemed to have worked. He became softer but not soft enough. But it had saved Sherlock’s life until now.

Sherlock had cooked and had been fed. But again, he was always hungry. His clothes weren't white anymore but soiled with kitchen dirt, urine, and other body fluids. His cock and balls were chafed raw and permanently hurt.

He was weak and had lost weight during the days he had been here. He wondered how long it would take his brother to come and get him. Even though his dom told him he wouldn't and he told him every single time he spoke to him. He absolutely tried to break him but hadn't managed yet.

With every stroke he landed on his body and with every push inside his arse he told him he was lost forever. He was in permanent pain and couldn't look straight anymore but he never lost his hope.

He had recognised that his dom had gone mad for real. He had never found out what happened during his clean up. His feelings for him were still present but not that strong anymore. He more pitied him. He knew it was senseless to hope he would come back to him. Love him back. John Watson was lost forever.

And now he had told him he had to do some business and leave him behind. Sherlock was scared and tried to beg him not to be left alone. What if something happened to him outside this place? No one would know he was here. He would starve and die a horrible death.

But his dom had simply gagged him and shoved him into his closet. He was hooked to the wall by his collar. His cuffed hands were on his back and hooked to the wall, as well. He was allowed to sit though because John didn't want him to choke when he fainted or fell asleep. He had a generous day.

He held up his mobile and opened the app for his plug and other devices. He switched them on and they started to torment him, tormented his raw insides. Sherlock sobbed and cried. He pleadingly looked up at him but his dom closed the door and it became dark.

He leant against the wall and closed his eyes even though it was dark anyway. He tried to breathe through the pulsing pain running through his body but it was impossible to ignore. He would become mad, too, if this kept happening any longer.

He had nightmares about his balls and cock being roasted inside the metal cage and over-long nipples for the rest of his life. He started to cry again.

But suddenly he heard noises. There was some commotion. What was happening? Could he allow himself some hope? Was someone coming for him?

The door to his place, the closet, was ripped open and Sherlock blinked into the light.

“Sherlock!” A voice called out and someone quickly approached him. He twitched and jerked back but then he recognised his brother. He desperately looked up. Mycroft reached out and took off the thick gag.

“Myc...” He wasn't able to speak because he cried so hard. Mycroft knelt by his side and held him. After a long minute, he calmed down a bit but kept close.

“Get the mobile and shut it off. Please, find it...” Sherlock breathed hard and pleadingly looked at him. Even though he had been permanently tortured, his brain had never stopped working. He knew, his dom, John, couldn't have gone far and therefore the mobile must be still close.

“Everybody looks for a mobile on that bastard! Now!” Mycroft spoke into his radio and his order got confirmed.

Only then Sherlock seemed to realise how he looked and that he obviously wasn't alone. He smiled.

“Looking good, brother-mine...”

“I found a mobile on him.” Greg was suddenly standing behind Mycroft and pressed into the closet, too. He fiddled with the app still being opened and Sherlock visibly relaxed. Then he switched it completely off.

He knelt by Sherlock’s other side and looked at his cuffs and the collar. He worried his lips and suddenly stood again.

“I'll be right back.” He needed tools to get the restraining items off of Sherlock. They needed a small welding machine. Or a laser. And he had seen one on the soldier carrying the tablet and all the other techy stuff.

He found him in the hall checking on the alarm-system.

“Hey, I know I can't give you orders but I really need that laser upstairs.” The man looked at him.

“You are with Sir Holmes, Sir. But I am going to work it. I am not allowed to give it away.” Greg stared into his eyes but nodded.

“Sure. We have to get locked metal off Sherlock Holmes. He is in severe pain and I do hope you know how to handle the thing.” They quickly walked upstairs.

“I sure do. I invented the thing.” The soldier replied and Greg was amazed. This team really was special. They weren't just soldiers. They were specialists.

They returned to Sherlock’s side and the small place became very crowded. Greg stood a bit back to give both Mycroft and the soldier more toom. 

The soldier knelt down and carefully looked at everything but refrained from touching the victim. But finally, he looked into his eyes and Sherlock even returned the gaze.

“At first, we have to take you off that hook. I need a proper light to free you completely. I promise to be very careful when cutting through the metal. I need to know if you can hold still.” Sherlock snorted and it somehow calmed both Mycroft and Greg. The soldier took it as the confirmation it was and nodded.

At first, Greg unhooked both the collar and the handcuffs freeing him from the wall. 

“OK, let me cut through the connection between these.” The soldier pointed down to the metal connecting Sherlock’s ankle cuffs. Their eyes met and Sherlock blinked.

“Do it.” The soldier handed a torch over to Greg who gave him the much-needed light. He put on special glasses and Mycroft shielded his brother’s face. Sherlock closed his eyes and buried his head against his leg. 

After it was done, Mycroft helped him up. Sherlock swayed at first but then widened his stance.

“Myc? Bathroom, please...” He roughly said. Mycroft nodded and led him inside. He also closed the door.

“What do you need?” He asked and mentally prepared.

“Please, take the plug away. Both plugs.” His arms were still cuffed and Mycroft just carefully pulled down his dirty trousers. Sherlock was more than smelly but he ignored it.

He washed his hands with hot water and then took a wash-cloth soaking it. He gently placed it over his penis to soak the crusted blood and gore around the slit. He finally reached for the penis-plug and carefully pulled. Sherlock hissed and grounded his teeth. 

Then he turned around and Mycroft saw the tormented flesh on his backside. He repeated the action with the wash-cloth. Afterwards, he gently touched his cheek and grabbed the handle. He turned and pulled and heard his brother cry. But soon it plopped out and he just dropped it. He used a wet towel to wipe over his behind and then washed his hands again.

He saw that his top stuck to his body. He also saw the dried blood. He couldn't take it off of him without hurting him and he refrained from doing so.

The light in here was bright though and he put a towel on the toilet lid.

“Sit. We will do it in here.” And he called for the soldier and Greg to come in.

The man had seen a lot and he simply ignored the half-naked man on the toilet. Instead he just knelt down in front of him again and gently took one of his feet on his thigh. Greg held Sherlock’s hand while Mycroft had his palm on his shoulder.

Sherlock kept watching the soldier and his tool. The laser. He was fascinated and held absolutely still. It was something he was very good at by now. The first cuff came off soon and the second followed.

The soldier looked at Greg.

“Could you get the first-aid kit from Sergeant Mavis? Just call out for her and she will come running.” He looked up at Greg who just nodded and pressed Sherlock’s hand before he left the bath.

He found her quickly enough and she wanted to come along but he denied her.

“No, please understand. We are already four persons in the bath. I don't want to make him feel crowded. More crowded. Just give it to me, please.” He held out his hand.

“I understand. There you are.” She handed it over still a bit reluctantly.

“But if you need medical help...”

“Then I will call you instantly. Promise!” He smiled and hurried back into the bath. The soldier rummaged through the perfectly filled kit and took care of Sherlock’s ankles.

“Do you need a break before I start on your wrists?” He asked but Sherlock shook his head.

“No, just proceed. I need them gone...” He roughly said. Greg took a glass and threw the toothpaste and brush on the tiles. He filled it with water and held it to his lips. Sherlock drank and gratefully looked up at him.

The soldier kept going and took one of his wrists. One after the other came off and his inflamed skin was taken care off. He was heavily bandaged on both his wrists and ankles.

Now came the most difficult part. The collar around his neck.

“Sir, could you hold back the hair, please?” The soldier looked up at Mycroft.

“Sure.” His spidery fingers gently moved through the hair and held it up where it was in the way. Sherlock lowered his head and was carefully directed until the position was good. The laser got closer and he started to work. He was very careful and this time he worked very slowly.

But finally, it was over and he looked up at Mycroft. He touched the collar at the other side and pulled. It quietly cracked and it was gone.

Sherlock’s neck was inflamed too and he had to force himself to keep his fingers away from his red and chafed skin.

“I think it's time for the medicine woman.” The soldier said and stood. Greg walked outside and called for her. She came quickly and took over changing place with the soldier.

“This will suffice until hospital.” She stood again and Sherlock’s head shot up.

“No hospital! Myc, I only want to go home.” He pleadingly looked up at him.

“My doctor will surely have a look at you soon enough. But if he says hospital, you will go.” Sherlock wanted to talk back but then closed his mouth again. He was too weak to fight.

“We will be there with you. You won't be left alone in the hospital. I promise.” Greg said and Sherlock relaxed.

But then he carefully lifted his hand and touched the ring in his left nipple through his top while still looking up at Greg.

“As long as the laser-man is still here...” Greg quickly nodded. He wouldn't forget Sherlock call the soldier _laser-man_ for his whole life.

“Sure. Just stay seated.” Greg once stroked over his head and Sherlock sighed. He left the bath and found the soldier standing by a window looking outside. He looked like he wanted to hurt someone.

When he heard Greg, he turned around.

“What do you need?” He asked straightening up.

“Sherlock is just asking if _laser-man_ could remove the rings, as well.” Greg smiled at the soldier who grinned back.

“I will have it printed on a t-shirt.” He said and disappeared into the bath again. Greg followed and squeezed in close to the medical woman who carefully sprayed water over Sherlock’s back to be able to loosen the sodden and dirty shirt.

Again, Greg held Sherlock’s hand and the soldier carefully worked his laser. Afterwards, the woman took over again and gently put some ointment and more bandages on the tormented flesh.

The soldiers stood and, on their way out, naturally collected all the evidence. Mycroft was extremely pleased with this team. Well, it actually was _his_ team.

“We need to get you something to dress. Something fresh. And you should wash up very carefully.” Greg suggested.

At once, the medic was back and taped his wounds over. Even his penis but he didn’t mind.

“Not in here. Find some other bath.” Greg started to look into the other rooms and found a second bath. It was small but Sherlock simply nodded.

“Greg, could you get my backpack? Send someone back through the cave. I left it there. I brought clothes for my little brother.” Greg walked downstairs and send a soldier away back through the passage-way.

Upstairs the brothers looked at each other.

“Come on. I'll get you clean and then you can dress and leave with us.” Sherlock nodded. Actually, the only thing he wanted to do was sleep. Just slump somewhere and close his eyes. Sleep.

But he went under the shower with Mycroft who had undressed, as well. Greg returned and unpacked the backpack. He found the disinfectant shower-gel and brought it inside.

Sherlock had to close his eyes when the coloured water swirled down the drain.

Greg picked up Mycroft's uniform and laid it out for him. He was still loaded with energy and wondered if he could help with something.

“You have done enough already.” Mycroft stood behind him leading his brother out who had a towel over both his bony shoulders and hips.

Greg looked at him and again wondered about his abilities. But he smiled and relaxed. He helped Sherlock getting dressed who didn't mind Greg around. Mycroft dressed back into his uniform.

“You will love the way back to the helicopter. There is a secret passage-way that has been used by pirates in the past. It leads outside and ends directly by the sea.” Sherlock’s head slowly came up and a lopsided smiled pulled his lips up. Greg grinned at him.

“See? I knew you’d like that!” They left nothing behind when they finally disappeared and met the team downstairs in front of the tunnel.

Mycroft knew why they went through the tunnel and not left the castle through the front gate. The way-out front was too dangerous because of hidden weapons and mines in the ground. A drone had found them and they decided to clean that up later. They could very well leave the way they had come in. No one minded.

“Sir, your brother will need shoes.” The medic simply stated and Mycroft knew he actually hadn't thought about shoes.

“Here, I brought a pair when picking up your backpack, Sir. They should fit.” A pair of combat boots was handed over and Mycroft thanked the man.

Finally, they were ready. This time Sherlock was with them. Mycroft was first and Greg was behind him. But Sherlock managed. Sometimes he stumbled because the boots were heavy. But he made it and finally stood by the sea. He turned around and looked up. His face hardened and he kept walking.

***

The moment he was strapped into the seat inside the helicopter he fell asleep and didn't wake again until they reached London. Mycroft ushered him into the back of one of his cars and talked to his team. They parted very pleased and Greg looked from afar. 

But they waved to him when they left for several cars. Now Greg felt really good. He had been accepted as a part of this mission and not just the side-kick of their commanding officer which actually had been Mycroft.

They took Sherlock home where Mycroft’s personal doctor already waited. He examined him very thoroughly.

“I am afraid this will take a bit longer to heal. You need to rest to get well soon.” He looked at him.

“I want nothing more than to rest...” Sherlock sighed and was helped into bed. He carefully rolled on his side and was gone in a second. The doctor quietly took his bag and left the room to meet both his brother and the DI.

“He asked for someone called Ian before he fell asleep. He was very worried about him.” Mycroft nodded.

“I will take care of that. Thank you.” He saw him out and they sat down in the library.

“You should call him and tell him we found them and saved Sherlock.” Greg quietly said.

“Yes, you are right. He has been hurt, as well, and needs to know.” He pulled out his mobile and called him. Then Greg got surprised because Mycroft invited him over for dinner.

“They became friends. Ian really likes Sherlock and Sherlock likes him back. I know that. And he has helped a lot before. Sherlock will like his company.”

“And did Ian ask about John Watson?” Greg wanted to know.

“No, he didn't. I think he knows already. There were several people with different cars in the area. I believe they were his. But since they didn't interfere, they were left alone.

They sat in the library and looked at each other. Greg was worried because Mycroft's face didn't show anything.

“What? What did I do wrong?” Greg quietly asked.

“Nothing! Nothing at all, Gregory. You were great. So said my team. Why do you even have to ask?” Greg shrugged.

“I am not sure. I felt like an outsider. Well, I was an outsider.”

“You were great. I clearly underestimated you. You didn't need the protection I ordered for you.”

“Protection?” Now Mycroft swallowed.

“Yes, protection. How could I have known what you were capable of?” Greg smiled.

“You are right. But the same goes for you. You impressed me very much today. You must have been amazing in your early days. I mean, not that you aren't today. But differently. Damn, you know what I mean...” Greg blushed.

“Yes, I do, Gregory.” Mycroft gave him a smile and Greg relaxed.

“What about the place you found him? What was it again? Baker Street?” Greg asked after having topped up their drinks.

“He will move in soon enough. He needs to have his own place.” Mycroft replied.

“It won't be easy.” Greg mused.

“No, it won't. But now John Watson is gone for real. I have arranged everything. Nothing will happen to my brother anymore.” Greg's tumbler stopped in front of his lips.

“What are you talking about?” He quietly asked.

“You know very well what I am talking about.” Mycroft's voice sounded cold and dangerous and Greg didn't ask another question.

They sat in silence for a while but both men relaxed again. Greg knew it had been the right thing to do and he wasn't really shocked.

And suddenly Sherlock padded into the library. He had found a dressing-gown and only wore boxers beneath it. But he looked better. He had slept for a while and the meds helped, too. And he had also brushed his teeth and did a quick wash-up.

“I need a drink, too.” Sherlock said and carefully sat in an armchair. Mycroft poured him a whiskey and handed it over.

“There you are. Now tell us, how are you? What do you need?” He asked.

“Dinner. I am so hungry...” Mycroft checked his watch and Greg grinned.

“We even have a dinner surprise for you.” He said and it made Sherlock look up. His smile though came out a bit lopsided.

“I am not fond of surprises anymore.” Sherlock quietly said.

“You will be of this one. Promise!” Mycroft stood.

“Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Why don't you get dressed?” Sherlock stood again and walked back upstairs.

“I'll freshen up, as well.” Greg stood and smiled at Mycroft.

“Yeah, off you go. Leave me behind. It's all fine.” And he even pouted. Greg quickly stepped over to him and kissed him hard.

“You know, you just looked very much like your little brother.” Greg knew how much Mycroft hated being compared to Sherlock. And he was fast but not fast enough when Greg jumped back grinning.

“See you in a few!” And gone he was. Mycroft sighed but also smiled. Naturally, he was dressed as impeccable as he normally was. He waited and had just another drink when the doorbell rang and Ian was let in by both security and the butler.

Mycroft stood and looked at the door. Ian entered the library and curiously looked around.

“Thank you for the dinner invitation. It was a nice surprise in the midst of chaos.” Ian smiled and held out his hand.

“You are very welcome.” They shook hands and Ian was handed a drink. They sat and Ian swirled the amber fluid.

“How is Sherlock?” Ian asked looking at Mycroft.

“He is hurt. Injured. Chafed off skin. Inflamed neck. He is sleeping a lot. We have just returned today.” Ian worried his lips.

“And where is John?” He looked right into his eyes.

“I had him contained in a military prison. He is not getting out of his cell. He is alone there. Nutrition is shoved through a window in the door. The people who work there and bring the food are mine. I will be taking no risks. Not after what happened before.”   
Mycroft sounded hard and cold again but Ian nodded.

“Very good. You can't take any risk with John Watson. His organisation is very powerful. But as soon as they will find out about him, someone else will take over. You should take your chance and destroy it completely.”

“You might be able to provide intel?” Mycroft tilted his head.

“I might, yes.” Ian thinly smiled and offered a data-stick. Mycroft took it and let it disappear into his pocket.

Right then, Greg returned.

“Ian, welcome.” They shook hands.

“Have you heard Sherlock?” Mycroft asked and Greg nodded.

“Yes, he is about ready.” And they could hear him coming down the stairs already. His face lightened up when seeing Ian and he strode quickly towards him.

“Ian...” An honest smile was on his haunted face and Ian just pulled him into his arms and gently held him.

“There you are again. I knew you would make it. You are strong. You can do everything.” Ian whispered.

“I am so sorry...” Sherlock whispered into his shoulder. Now Ian held him a bit back and tried to look into his face.

“What for, Sherlock?” He quietly asked.

“Your home... Your people... It's entirely my fault...” He had to fight with his tears. Now Ian took him by the shoulders.

“No! No, Sherlock. It was John's fault. He did all this. He became mad and I still don't know why. We probably will never find out. And as far as I am concerned, you became my friend and I need you to understand that I am not holding a grudge against you.” Sherlock carefully looked up and a tiny smile was back.

“Thank you...” But Ian still shook his head.

“No, do not thank me.” He smiled, too.

Both Greg and Mycroft stood a bit away and watched the scene. Then Greg looked at Mycroft who in return raised a brow. But both men were pleased with what they saw.

A gong finally announced dinner and Sherlock pushed back.

“Come on. I am very, very hungry.” Sherlock led the way and everyone followed into the dining room. Ian looked around and was really impressed. Mycroft Holmes had a really nice home.

Several courses were served and Sherlock devoured everything. Even Mycroft ate more than he normally did. Ian enjoyed the wonderful food and even praised the cook. They drank wine and changed back into the library for cigarettes.

Somehow, Sherlock and Ian ended up on the sofa together. Another bottle was opened and Mycroft just let him drink. He was supposed to do what he wanted and feel good. No restrictions for his brother anymore. Never again.

But Sherlock fell asleep rather soon anyway and slowly slumped towards Ian who simply arranged him on the sofa. Finally, Sherlock’s head rested on his thigh and his long legs were pulled up. He was on his side facing Ian and his nose almost poked into his body. But he peacefully slept.

Greg grinned and Mycroft shook his head. They lowered their voices but kept talking to each other.

“What more can you tell me about John Watson's businesses?” Mycroft asked.

“I already told you everything I know. We haven't been doing business together for a very long time. I have my own business. Legal business. Of course, I still have relations and know stuff.” He nonchalantly shrugged.

“I'd appreciate it.” Mycroft was pleased enough.

“Is he seeing a therapist?” Ian thoughtfully asked looking down at Sherlock.

“No, he hates them. He would never see one. Talking to us must be enough.” Greg replied.

“What about a place for him? Ian asked.

“I am not sure.” Greg said shaking his head.

“I am. He will have one. I already have found the perfect place. The moment Dr Watson's organisation has been destroyed; he will move in.” Mycroft seemed to be convinced about it.

“I will provide the needed intel for you. I will make it look as if I am interested in taking over. Lots of people do know me and will believe what I say.” Mycroft tilted his head.

“But won't they also know that you helped Sherlock?” He asked.

“They only know that John left him with me because he trusted me. I could have forced him to work with me. And John would never have told anyone about his failures and mistakes. Never.” He said convincingly.

“It will be risky.” Greg added and Ian simply shrugged.

“It will be an exciting adventure.” And he grinned. Greg grinned, too. Mycroft just shook his head but a small smile tugged up his lips, too.

They sat in the library for a while longer when Ian finally tried to get up from beneath Sherlock who groaned and struggled on the sofa.

“I really have to leave now. Thanks for dinner. It was splendid. Please, keep me informed?” He stood and Sherlock slowly sat up rubbing over his eyes.

“Are you leaving?” He roughly asked.

“Yes, I have several appointments tomorrow. But I will be back to visit you if you like and your brother allows it.” Sherlock at once looked at Mycroft who just nodded his approval.

“Get some rest and restore your health. Then you can provide dinner for me at your own place.” He cupped his face with one hand and smiled. Suddenly there was a spark in Sherlock’s eyes that hadn't been there before. He had a goal again. Both Mycroft and Greg were able to see it.

***

Several days passed. Both Mycroft and Anthea worked on the destruction of John Watson's organisation. Greg was back on his job and brought work home again.

Sherlock was much better already and demanded the files from Greg. It surely wouldn't take long until he would move out.

Ian was regularly visiting, too.

And after one month of rest and treatments for his skin and also solving loads of Greg's crimes, he finally moved into Baker Street. Everything had been cleaned and stocked up and smelled fresh. Mycroft had found the most interesting items to decorate his flat with. And Sherlock even liked them all, mostly the skull that had even been polished. Sherlock was extremely pleased and happy.

There also was a housekeeper coming with the place. Even though Mrs Hudson claimed she wasn’t but she had filled the cookie jar to the brim for Sherlock. She had liked him at once and promised Mycroft to take care of him.

Greg and Mycroft were sitting on the sofa while Sherlock was sitting in his armchair. He looked at them.

“Listen. You can really leave me alone now. It's all fine. I am feeling well. The security system is perfect and I promise to switch it on. Always. I won't ever disable it. It makes me feel safe.” Mycroft looked at him and a silent conversation took place for a minute.

Greg just waited them out. He knew when it was over when Mycroft moved again. Only then he spoke getting up already.

“Very well. Have a nice evening. Call us if you need anything.” He held out his hand for Mycroft who took it and stood.

“Good night, Sherlock. Take care of yourself, please.” Mycroft said and by now Sherlock stood, too.

“Please, go away now. I want to wallow in being all by myself again.” And they really left. Sherlock looked out of the window and watched them ride away.

Only then he completely relaxed. He turned around and let his eyes roam through the living room of 221B.

He had also gone shopping with his brother for new furniture. The kitchen held a real kitchen-table he had promised not to use as a lab. His lab was upstairs in the second bedroom.

And the kitchen-table held four chairs so he could host guests. He was looking forward to that.

In the meantime, the criminal organisation had been almost completely destroyed. Mycroft had taken care of that. The left-overs had been swiped off by Greg. They had made several nice arrests and were able to give back a lot of money and jewellery to a lot of victims.

Ian had provided a lot of important intel to destroy the agency, too. No evidence would lead back to him though. Mycroft had taken care of that, as well. Many people had been freed from their different houses and places and were now taken care of. They had all been taken off the streets and kidnapped and forced into sex-slavery. The trafficking-ring was gone.

And finally, tonight Sherlock had invited Ian for dinner. Only Ian. He wanted to thank him personally for everything he had done for him.

He checked the time and nodded to himself. He entered the kitchen and found an apron. He started to cook and even now it held no bad memories. Now he was cooking for himself and his guest. For Ian.

Right after he had finished and prepared everything and also set up the table, the doorbell downstairs rang. Sherlock’s head came up and he got rid of the apron quickly stuffing it into the cupboard. He could hear Mrs Hudson and also Ian and he smiled. She would be curious because she had never met him and only heard about him.

Then came the steps on the seventeen stairs and Sherlock was barely able to wait until it knocked. He hurried to the door and opened it. A broad smile was on his face when he saw Ian.

“Welcome to my place! Please, do come in.” He made a step back and gestured him inside.

“Thanks for the invitation, Sherlock.” Ian actually carried a bag and a bunch of wildflowers. He handed both over to Sherlock.

“This is for you.” Sherlock blushed and Ian found it adorable. He hesitantly took both and carried the flowers into the kitchen.

“You shouldn't have...” He quietly said but was secretly pleased. He arranged the flowers into a vase and placed them on the table. Then he looked into the bag. There was a bottle of wine and chocolate and also a box wrapped in paper that had printed formulas on it. Sherlock smiled at Ian who just shrugged. He didn't tell him it had taken him a very long time until he had found something suitable. He wanted it to be perfect. He needed it to be perfect.

Sherlock carefully opened the box and then his eyes widened. It was a very expensive item for his lab. He looked up at him and swallowed.

“I really don't know what to say. But this is clearly too much.” His long fingers carefully rested on the box.

“It is never too much. And you, Sherlock, only deserve the best.” Ian said all smile. Sherlock had to fight with tears but managed. He didn't want to be a cry-baby anymore.

“Would you like some wine?” He asked.

“God, yes. After the day I had, yes. I was really looking forward to tonight.” Sherlock poured wine into new glasses he had gotten from Greg as a housewarming present. The wine already was inside a new decanter and Ian admired both.

They changed into the living room and stood by the window.

“Would you like to smoke?” Sherlock asked and Ian gratefully nodded. They lit their cigarettes and Sherlock opened the window.

“This is really nice...” Ian said blowing out the smoke. Sherlock looked at him and agreed.

“I do enjoy it, yes. I can do what I want. It feels extremely nice.” Ian tilted his head and smiled. They sipped their wine and enjoyed the perfect taste.

Soon they moved over to the dining table.

“See? This is new. It is all new.” Sherlock was actually proud of his home and Ian understood the notion.

“I'll serve dinner now, shall I?” Ian rubbed over his non-existing stomach.

“Yes, please!” And he plonked on a chair. It made Sherlock laugh and he hurried into the kitchen.

They had dinner and talked. Well, Ian made him talk and it was good. He didn't cry or stopped eating, he simply told him what happened.

“May I ask about your health?” Ian carefully worded his question and Sherlock shrugged.

“Sure, why not?” He exhaled and sipped some wine before he replied.

“You can see my neck by yourself. It has healed completely and so have all the other parts affected by the metal and the electricity. My penis took a bit longer and so did my backside. But stitches weren't needed and everything is back to normal. Not that I knew because naturally I didn't have sex since _him_.” Ian stared at him and drank some wine.

“Naturally.” He just said and cleared his throat.

“I am glad to hear that.” It was the only reply he could think of and Sherlock looked at him tilting his head.

“You are glad to hear I didn't have sex?” He said.

“What? No! Yes...” Ian stuttered and now Sherlock was provided a rare sight because Ian actually blushed. Sherlock didn't comment on both his words and his reaction.

“I mean, you surely should take your time until you... Well, you know.” He helplessly shrugged.

“Would you like dessert?” Sherlock simply asked and stood. Ian was glad about the distraction and nodded.

“Yes, please.” Sherlock placed the bowls with mousse au chocolate on the table and Ian quickly started to eat.

Afterwards he leant back in his chair and Sherlock shoved over his cigarettes.

“It seems you liked what I dished up?” He asked.

“Do you even have to ask? Dinner was tasty and perfect. I loved it!” Sherlock enjoyed the praise. Finally, he was able to enjoy something given to him by somebody not being his brother or Greg.

They smoked and afterwards Sherlock cleaned the table. They changed back into the living room and Sherlock brought drinks.

“Do you want to get me drunk?” Ian asked but accepted. Sherlock shrugged.

“You could always stay.” He offered without thinking about it. Ian thoughtfully looked at him and then at the sofa.

“Too short.” He said all smile. Sherlock pointed over his shoulder.

“You can sleep in my bed and I'll take the sofa. I sleep there all the time during the day.” He shrugged.

“Then I'll have another drink.” Ian said and Sherlock happily provided it. They smoked and drank for a while until he openly yawned. He quickly covered his mouth.

“You had enough for today. Let's go to bed.” Ian stood and had to spread his legs. He was quite a bit drunk. Sherlock looked at him and giggled.

“Yes, let's.” He showed Ian the bedroom and bath and got a blanket for the sofa. Both men used the bath and parted for the night.

Sherlock’s mobile dinged with a text when he unfolded the blanket and had undressed to his boxers. He had just closed the window and checked his mobile.

_”Be careful, little brother.”  
MH_

Sherlock shook his head. But then it dinged again and he raised a brow.

_”Have fun!”  
GL_

Now Sherlock wondered about the situation. But only now. He hadn't thought about getting intimate with Ian. He liked him, yes. But could he ever be with him? How could he forget that Ian was another dom?

Surely, he would like to have sex again. Good sex. With a bit of bondage and things he liked. He would like to get fucked into oblivion by a man who cared for him, really cared for him.

But by now, he had forbidden himself to even think about intimacy. Now though he started to muse about the situation. About Ian who was his friend, who had helped him and who had betrayed his former best friend for Sherlock.

He slowly shook his head and didn't reply to any of the two texts.


	11. Chapter 11

Sherlock slept through the night without waking. He still didn't sleep long though but he didn't mind as long as he felt good when he woke.

He stretched his long legs and pressed against the sofa. He remembered suddenly that he wasn't alone, that Ian was in his bedroom. And he smiled. He listened into the flat but it was still quiet.

He rolled off the sofa and yawned and stretched some more. It did him bloody good to do that, to be able to do that without anything stopping him. Or anyone. He also took the freedom to wear a pair of warm slippers. He had ordered them online. They had fur inside and out and he simply loved them. Greg had openly laughed when he saw them and Mycroft had shaken his head. But this time, Sherlock hadn't actually minded. He had pressed the shoes against his chest and stated, he never had been allowed these. Both men had ensured him that it was perfectly fine for him to wear them if he wanted.

He looked at the door to his bathroom. Still, he needed a certain amount of time until he could go there. He still had to think about the privilege of doing so, being able to use a bath without asking permission. He just took his time and enjoyed his freedom.

After a quick wash and brushing his teeth he donned a dressing-gown and brewed coffee. He wondered if Ian liked to have breakfast after yesterday's dinner. Then he thought about the alcohol and decided it would be best to provide it. He sent a text to the woman at Speedy's who he had come to actually like. He would pick it up in a few.

He stood in the middle of his living room and pulled a face. It smelled of cigarettes and alcohol and a little bit of food. He opened the window and leant on the sill. He looked over Baker Street and smiled. But then he stopped when he saw a black sedan parking a few steps away. He slanted his eyes. His brother still sent protection when he thought it was needed. He sighed and shook his head closing the window again.

Suddenly he heard his bedroom door being opened and turned around. And there was Ian. He wore one of his pyjamas that were quite a bit short on him and made him look funny. His hair was a mess but he looked good.

When he saw Sherlock, he smiled and stepped up to him.

“Good morning! How are you?” He asked coming closer. And Sherlock smiled, too.

“Ian, good morning. Very good, thank you.” He looked him over.

“Why didn't you take socks?” He finally asked.

“Oh, I am sorry I took one of your pyjamas. I shouldn't have.” He apologised.

“What? No! I meant your feet are all bare and it must be cold? It's fine, it's all fine. I don't mind. It's you, Ian.” Sherlock reached out and carefully touched his arm.

It sent a shock through Ian. It also sent a shock through Ian's cock but he tried to hide it. Instead he relaxed and covered Sherlock’s hand.

“I am glad to hear that. I also found the toothbrush and everything you provided for me. You are prepared for almost everything, am I right?” He asked and Sherlock shrugged.

“Delete the _almost_.” They laughed.

Ian eyed the coffee and Sherlock at once poured him a mug. He also offered milk and sugar and Ian took both.

“Would you like some breakfast?” He asked and Ian nodded.

“Yes, I'd like that.” Ian was completely relaxed leaning against the kitchen-wall. Sherlock nodded.

“Very good. It will just take a minute.” Sherlock took his wallet from his coat and opened the door. Ian looked at him but didn't ask. By now, he knew him.

He took the freedom to smoke at the open window. He also looked out at Baker Street and he found he liked it here. He liked Sherlock and perhaps he liked him a bit too much.

He wanted to spend more time with him. He wanted to show him places. He wanted to take him away for a weekend. And finally, he admitted it to himself. He wanted Sherlock.

He slowly exhaled and closed his eyes. He had feelings for the man. Firstly, he adored him. He was good looking and intelligent. The fact, he was a submissive wasn't important. Secondly, he wanted to show him he could live his life as he wanted even when he was in a d/s relationship.

But he had no idea if Sherlock even fancied the idea of being with someone again. Or if he even fancied him that way. He seemed to like him though. He was relaxed around him. He trusted him. And Ian did not want to destroy what they had.

And last night, he had offered him to stay in his bed. Even though Ian had to sleep alone in there, he had been able to smell him. His blanket and his pillow smelled like his shampoo and shower-gel. Ian had slept well.

Sherlock was back quickly and carried a paper-bag. He carried it into the kitchen and arranged everything on the table. He was efficient and soon enough they sat down and Ian looked at him.

“You are pampering me.” He said smiling and took a croissant to slather it with jam and butter.

“I am simply a good host.” Sherlock smiled back and picked at a slice of toast.

“You actually don't like this, do you?” Sherlock shook his head.

“No, I prefer mushy eggs.” He replied. Ian devoured his croissant and stood. Sherlock looked alarmed and wanted to get up, too. But Ian held out his hand.

“No, stay. I'll make you mushy eggs.” Sherlock looked at his outstretched arm and sank back into the chair. He watched Ian while he cooked his eggs, watched him scramble and heat the pan. He felt warm.

This man, a dom, was cooking him his beloved mushy eggs. He was excited about it. Soon enough, Ian brought him his plate and expectantly looked at him.

“I hope they are the way you like them.” He sat down again and ate another croissant, this time with honey. Sherlock devoured the eggs and licked his lips.

“They were perfect. Thank you.” He poured another coffee.

“What are your plans for today?” Ian asked.

“Some lab work. Some cleaning. Nothing much.” He shrugged and Ian hummed.

“Would you like to go on an excursion with me?” Ian looked at him to see his reaction.

“What? What excursion?” He was very surprised but seemed to be interested.

“Whatever you want.” Ian said. Now Sherlock had no idea what to tell him. He hadn't done anything remotely interesting or even exciting in a very long time. The cold cases Greg provided were his work. But did he actually have any hobbies? No, he answered this by himself. The lab work he did was because of his crime solving. OK, yes, he liked doing experiments and he had studied chemistry at university. But could he call it a hobby? He thought no.

His thinking process took him only a few seconds in which he visited several places inside his head. He found things he had dreamed about when he was a child and then when he was with John, his horrible dom. Things, he had never done because other things needed to be done.

But now Ian offered to do things with him. And he trusted Ian. He was a good man and had proved that again and again. His brother had checked him out and approved of him.

“There are several possible options.” He finally said carefully looking at Ian.

“Tell me, Sherlock.” Ian leant forward and he looked curious.

“Well, I would like to go to the aquarium. And the zoo. A museum. A walk on the beach. A short cruise.” He only whispered and his long fingers fiddled with his mug.

Ian had expected a lot of things. But not this. Again, he sort of felt pity for the man. He still was so innocent, even naïve. John hadn't been able to beat the innocence out of him.

And Ian knew by heart he shouldn't pity him and he stopped. Instead, he smiled.

“What would you like to do first?” Ian asked.

“Museum.” Sherlock replied instantly.

“Why?” Ian tilted his head. Another unexpected reply.

“Because we are late already. We both have to get dressed. You have to go home to find fresh clothes. We will lose too much time. If you were so kind and took me to the beach, we should leave early to enjoy a full day by the sea.”

“Yes, you are right, of course. Museum it is.” They looked at each other and slowly Sherlock’s expression changed into something Ian hadn't yet seen. Something wonderful.

Sherlock stood.

“I'll get ready then. Feel free to do whatever in here.” And he disappeared into his bedroom and then Ian heard the shower. And he smiled. He stood and cleaned the table. He put everything into the dishwasher and stored the left-overs away. Soon everything looked perfectly fine again and clean, too.

Only then he smoked another cigarette by the open window. He again looked at the cars and people moving by and he understood why Sherlock liked it here.

He heard the hair-dryer and the doors of the cupboard in the bath. Then Sherlock walked back into his bedroom and probably got dressed. Soon after he appeared dressed in one of the new suits his brother had provided. Ian looked him over and liked what he saw. He smiled and told him so. Sherlock blushed.

“I am getting dressed into yesterday's clothes and then we will go to mine so I can look better than you.” Ian grinned and disappeared into the bedroom. Sherlock hadn't understood and slowly walked up to the mirror. He looked normal. He looked like him again. He was dressed after all. And he had gained some weight. He didn't look as haunted as he used to be when he was with John. His dom. His face hardened. He had to stop thinking about John as his dom. John was a devil and his tormentor. A burden that still rested on his soul.

He sighed and straightened up. John was gone from his life. His brother had seen to that. Now he was free to do as he liked. And he would today with Ian who had kindly offered to spend time with him.

Sherlock liked the idea to spend more time with Ian. He liked him. He was kind and attractive. He was also intelligent and understood what Sherlock had done and why. And he didn't judge him, didn't think him stupid.

“Are you ready?” Suddenly he was back and looked a bit rumpled but that would soon change.

“Yes, more than ready.” Sherlock smiled and donned his coat. He took his wallet and mobile and locked the door switching the alarm on. They found a cab and rode over to Ian's who had bought a new place in the meantime. Sherlock hadn't known and was surprised.

“I didn't want to keep the other place even though it was a good place. But it was connected with what John did, both to you and me, and therefore destroyed.” Sherlock understood very well but he wasn't sure why Ian cared so much about him.

“Have a look around if you like. I'll be ready in a few.” And he hurried away.

Sherlock put his coat over an armchair and slowly walked through the place. It had some fancy gadgets Sherlock would like to examine closer but didn't have the time now. He found an office and inside sat the most up to date technique he had ever seen. He very much wanted to look at it but didn't. He knew it wasn't right and very impolite and he didn't want to offend Ian. Perhaps he would show him if he asked kindly enough.

He ended in the living room again and smoked because there was an ashtray. Ian was back quickly and looked great. He had also donned a suit. Sherlock stood and let his eyes roam over him.

Ian looked down his body wondered if his trousers were open or something.

“A beautiful suit.” Sherlock finally said.

“Coming from you, it means a lot to me. Thank you.” Ian smiled and they left.

***

“What the hell is my darling brother doing?” Mycroft swore staring into his computer at the breakfast table. Greg read the paper in the meantime and grinned behind it.

“Your darling brother is finally having a good time, Myc. Don't spoil it.” He said from behind. Suddenly Mycroft stared over the edge and Greg lifted his eyes.

“They spent the night together!” He was getting loud and only now Greg lowered the paper.

“You don't know what they did and that is what actually angers you.” Greg calmly replied.

“Trying to deduce me, Gregory? Just don't!” Still loud and angry.

“Sherlock is a grown-up. You should not rule over him, Myc. That's something he absolutely does not need anymore!”

They stared into each other's eyes until Mycroft pressed his lips together and poured another tea.

“I am simply worried about him. Can't you understand?” He quietly asked.

“I do understand, Myc. But you should ask him. Call him tonight and ask him how he is. You texted him so he knows you know he spent time with Ian. He will also have seen the protection-detail in front of his door. He won't mind you worrying.” Greg folded the paper and left it on the table when he stood.

“I need to go, love. Work to do, crime-scenes to be. See you later!” He pressed a kiss on Mycroft's temple and went upstairs to find his bag and shoes. Mycroft was appeased and smiled. Then he snatched the paper.

Greg jumped down the stairs and got his coat from the rack by the door. He had actually installed it because he didn't want to use the wardrobe in the hall which actually was like a small room.

Mycroft approached him when he was dressed up and just slung his bag over his shoulder.

“Need a ride?” Mycroft asked and like any other morning Greg denied him.

“No, I am taking the tube.” They smiled at each other and kissed properly.

“Miss you...” Greg whispered against his lips

“Miss you more...” Mycroft replied and let go. He saw Greg out and closed the door. He still smiled when he sat down behind his desk and powered up his computer.

He was reading the final report from Anthea followed by the one of his team from the castle. The place had been returned to the local authorities and would become a heritage site again. All the dangerous devices had been removed.

The last thing he read was the latest report about John Watson. No changes there. He still was contained. But his organisation was almost completely destroyed. Mycroft had arranged for MI5 to look into the matter. He still had enough connections and held a lot of power to do just that. There would be nothing left worth to take over by others.

Mycroft was very pleased with his people, most of all with Anthea.

After he was done with the official documents, he looked at several pictures of Greg in uniform. They had been taken secretly without him knowing. Mycroft licked his lips. This was beyond sexy and he adjusted his cock.

He reached into his pocket and looked at the small box. He opened it and looked at the ring. It was a silver ring with a few engravings on top and inside. He sighed and put it back.

He still hadn't found the right moment to propose. He feared the moment. He feared the moment when Greg would say something he didn't like, when he denied him.

He shook his head and checked on his team who followed Sherlock and Ian.

***

Greg only looked at his watch when it was late afternoon and took the first opportunity to leave his office. He quickly rode home. He passed security on his way and was greeted. He waved back and entered Mycroft's place.

He knew he should actually stop calling it that. It was his home. Now it was because this morning, before he even had gone to the Yard, he had given up his flat. He had gone through and arranged some things to be stored and some to be picked up and given away. His very private things, such as records, guitar and a few other things were brought into his new home.

He hung up his coat and retrieved the surprise he had for Mycroft. Then he went looking for him.

He finally found him in his office.

“May I come in?” Mycroft looked up and he smiled. Then he closed the lid of his computer and turned his chair.

Greg exhaled and tried to relax. His fingers almost cramped around the surprise. He slowly walked up to him and then around the desk. Now Mycroft raised a brow and looked up at him.

Greg cleared his throat and lowered his gaze before he straightened up again. And then he went down on one knee looking into Mycroft's eyes.

“I love you very much. Therefore, I am asking you if you would give me the honour to marry me.” He opened the box and held it out so Mycroft could see the ring. It was golden and on the inside was the date engraved when they had first been together.

There was silence in the room and Greg's hopes went poof. But he stayed on his knee and kept looking at him.

“You damn man...” Mycroft roughly whispered and held out his ring. He moved down from his chair, as well, and now they knelt opposite of each other. Greg quietly laughed, almost hysterically giggled.

“I gladly accept. Happily. Very much so.” He held out his hand and Mycroft put the ring on his finger. Then Greg did the same for him and they moved closer. They kissed languidly and slowly. After a few minutes they were on the thick carpet.

“We should celebrate upstairs...” Mycroft whispered and Greg looked up at him. He simply nodded and they got up. Both men's bones cracked when standing up. They held hands and Greg felt all the love he had for the man.

“There is something you want to tell me. Something more.” Mycroft said pulling him close again.

“Well, yes. Let me say this straight then. I gave up my place. I am living with you now. Completely. But I will bring some things of mine. Things you probably don't approve of.” Greg swallowed.

“Such as?” Mycroft really wondered what he wanted to bring.

“Souvenirs. My guitar and my records. All my clothes. Some pictures.” Greg told him.

“Sure. Would you like a man-cave on the attic?” Mycroft grinned and Greg relaxed.

“No, I don't. I want my things to be where they belong such as living room, bedroom, wherever.”

“Since this is your home, you should do just so.” Mycroft said and Greg wondered if he still liked the idea of living with him when he saw what Greg would bring into the mix.

Mycroft actually had never been to Gregory's. They had always ended up here. But what Greg didn't know was that Mycroft very well knew about his interior since he had been spying on him for a very long time. Therefore, he knew what to expect to the tiniest detail.

***

Ian had taken Sherlock to the National Museum and now they sat on a bench looking at a picture. It was eerily quiet around them because only a few people were in here. They sat close together and didn't talk to each other.

Sherlock felt Ian's body warmth because they were close together on that bench. But he didn't feel crowded or bad. In fact, he liked the feeling of him being so close to him.

Ian again could smell the man by his side and became aroused. He had taken precaution when getting dressed and hadn't chosen a tight pair of trousers. Right now, he also did not shift but stayed where he was. Close to him.

Suddenly Sherlock turned his head and looked at him. Ian looked back and smiled. He questioningly tilted his head. Sherlock moved his head to the exit and they stood. They walked into the next room and they stayed close. The fabric of their suits touched and Sherlock was able to hear the sensible noise. It made the hairs in his neck stand up. The hair that had grown back again after it had to be shaved off because his neck was inflamed.

He came to an abrupt halt and closed his eyes. Ian stopped, too, and turned to face him.

“What's wrong?” He quietly asked. Now Sherlock lowered his head and just stood there. He didn't move and he didn't reply.

“Could you please get me somewhere private? Quickly...” He roughly whispered and a sob followed. Ian wondered what had triggered him but simply took over by grabbing his hand and pulling him into the nearest restroom. He locked them in and leant him against the wall.

“Talk to me, Sherlock.” He held him by the shoulders and looked into his eyes. Sherlock was quietly panting and he also still cried.

And now Sherlock did something Ian didn't expect because he threw himself into Ian's arms. His body clung to Ian who had to made a step back to keep his balance. He hugged him and rubbed over his back trying to calm him down. It took him a few minutes until the sobbing stopped but Sherlock was still glued to his body.

“I, I felt good with you so close, walking by my side. It made me react and I felt something. The hairs in my neck came up and I realised they could again because they have grown a lot and ...” He slumped against him and buried his face.

“I understand. I really do. You have done so well until now. Come and blow your nose.” He freed his right and pulled a tissue from the box beside the sink. Sherlock took it and turned away to use it. He binned it and took another one.

Ian took one, too, and wet it. Then he turned to Sherlock.

“Hold still and let me clean you up.” Sherlock closed his eyes and kept still while Ian gently wiped the cold tissue over his face. It made him feel much better.

“Very well. Still a bit blotchy but not too bad.” He cupped his face and stroked his thumb over his cheekbone.

“I believe you had enough for today. Let me take you home now. My home. We can have a drink and just sit if you like?”

“Yes, please. I'd be grateful if you could stay with me for a bit.” Ian smiled.

“Sure. Come on now.” And Ian took his hand again and pulled him along. He kept holding his hand all the way through the museum and outside. He held his hand during the cab ride and until he placed Sherlock into an armchair in his living room.

He had taken him out of his coat and hung it up. Sherlock still didn't speak but stared at his every move. Ian thought about his actions for just a second but then simply moved up between his legs and knelt. That got a reaction out of Sherlock because his eyes widened and he stilled completely.

Now Ian looked up at him and placed his hands flat on his thighs.

“What do you need, my friend?” He almost whispered the words and Sherlock swallowed.

“Reassurance.” The answer came quickly and Ian slowly nodded. He thought about it and then started to talk.

“You have been freed twice from the grip of John Watson. John, who has been my best friend. Your dom, who has turned so dark even I can't fully comprehend what he has done. Both to you and to others. And to be honest, I really don't want to know. He brought you into my house before the clean-up to protect you and today we are friends. Yes, I consider you my friend, a very good and also close friend. I would do anything to help you. I already did.” Ian exhaled slowly and kept holding his gaze. Sherlock’s eyes had already watered again.

“Back in the museum, you finally realised that you are free. Free to do as you please. Free to feel what you like. And your corporal reaction triggered all this. Am I right?” Sherlock slowly nodded with grounded teeth.

“Relax, my friend.” Ian whispered rubbing over his thighs.

“You _are_ right, of course.” Sherlock quietly replied.

“And how do you feel right now?” A tiny smile pulled Sherlock’s lips up.

“Very good. Warm.” Sherlock said.

“I think a drink is in order. Then we will have dinner.” Ian hardened his grip and stood. Sherlock grabbed his hand.

“Thank you...” The two simple words sent sparks through Ian. He felt it clearly. He was falling in love with Sherlock Holmes.

***

Sherlock was given a tumbler with whiskey and cigarettes. He stretched out his long legs and watched Ian disappear into his flat. But Sherlock didn't mind being left here because he felt utterly cared for. It was a feeling he enjoyed and revelled in right now. He had never known that he could feel this way without the sex. It felt like a revelation.

Finally, Ian was back and he had changed into jeans and t-shirt.

“Would you like to get comfy, too?” He asked. Sherlock knew he had been sweating while being in the restroom and he nodded.

“Yes, I would like that.” He placed his tumbler on the side-table and stood. Ian showed him his bedroom and the attached wardrobe.

“Pick anything you like. Perhaps you would like to freshen up, too? Towels and everything are right there.” He pointed towards the bath and Sherlock happily accepted. Ian was glad he was feeling better and the moment the door was closed he adjusted his cock again. He shook his head and went back into the kitchen. He actually had enough supplies because he liked to eat fresh. He started on pasta with a green pesto and mushrooms. And he created chocolate mousse because by now he knew about Sherlock’s sweet tooth.

After a while Sherlock returned with still damp hair. He hadn't used a brush and it looked wild. Ian swallowed and quickly looked away. He had also chosen a pair of jeans with upturned hems and a long-sleeved t-shirt. He had also taken socks, two pairs, because he had found no slippers.

“Much better, isn't it?” Ian said smiling and Sherlock nodded.

“Yes, very much so.” He looked relaxed again and carefully stepped up close to look what Ian was doing.

“I hope you like it.” He said and shrugged. Sherlock wrinkled his nose but nodded.

“Garlic. Herbs. I surely will like this. Where are the plates?” Sherlock asked.

“I have already set up the table. But you could open a bottle. Here.” Ian handed over a bottle with red wine and Sherlock took it.

“Opener?” He asked and Ian pointed towards the wall.

“Right there. Old-style mechanic.” Sherlock turned and his eyes widened.

“Nice...” He muttered and opened the bottle. His long fingers curled around the brass handle and Ian couldn't but watch him. The sound of the cork coming out woke him up again and he watched him taking the bottle into the dining room.

“God, I am so lost...” He muttered switching the oven off and pouring the pasta into a bowl. He carried both pasta and pesto inside and told Sherlock there was dessert left. He moved quickly and Ian grinned.

Everything had been set up nicely and Sherlock enjoyed it. He enjoyed being pampered by Ian. And he used his name thinking about him. He didn't think about him as a dom. He enjoyed being with him. He liked him. A lot.

Suddenly their eyes met and both men smiled. Ian by then knew he had to speak up. He had to speak up before it was too late and he destroyed something. He didn't want to lose Sherlock.

And Sherlock sensed there was something going on in Ian's head. He tilted his head and looked at him. They had just finished dessert and Sherlock had topped up their glasses.

“I need to talk to you.” Ian finally said worrying his lips. Sherlock sipped his wine and leant back into his chair.

“Yes, sure. Go on. What is it?” His eyes were wide open and he looked curious.

Ian had mentally prepared a speech to explain his feelings and everything. But now he couldn't. Instead he leant forward and looked into his eyes.

“I am falling in love with you.”


	12. Chapter 12

Sherlock had just taken a sip and now swallowed the wrong way. He quickly placed the glass back on the table and coughed. Tears spilt and he almost blindly grabbed the napkin to dab over his eyes.

Ian didn't move at all. He only looked and waited him out.

“I don't know what to say...” Sherlock finally got out the words. Ian stayed quiet. They sat there for several minutes until Ian finally stood collecting the dishes.

“I am sorry. I shouldn't have. Now exactly the thing happened I feared the most. I will lose you...” He turned away shaking his head.

Now Sherlock looked up and quickly followed him.

“What? No! Wait, please.” But Ian didn't stop. Sherlock though did.

“Ian!” He yelled at his back and that stopped him. He carefully looked over his shoulder.

“I am so sorry...” Ian whispered but Sherlock shook his head and came closer.

“There is no reason to tell me sorry. You should know, I do like you, too. A lot actually. And I am thinking of you as a man. Not a dom. But I still don't trust myself. I am not allowing myself to feel something so pure and good as love.”  
Sherlock sadly shook his head.

“The first time ever I felt I really loved someone was with John. I trusted him. He showed me things I had no idea they were possible. And then he betrayed me. He made me believe he loved me back. Just now, I can't put trust in another human being like this. But you should know I like being with you. I don't want you to leave me.”

“I won't ever leave you. You know, we still have a lot of excursions to make.” Ian relaxed again and a small smile came back up.

“Don't send me home tonight, please.” Sherlock said and it surprised Ian. He had no idea what to tell him.

“I know it is hard for you to have me around without... Well, you know. But I admit freely that I need you close. I am being selfish because it will make you suffer. I do understand if you have to deny me.” But Ian shook his head.

“No, I won't ever deny you. You will stay tonight. I have a guest-room.” Both men smiled and the tension was gone.

They kept sitting silently with a drink in hand until Sherlock’s eyes drooped.

“You are tired, my friend. Come on, I will show you the guest-room. It has an en-suite bath. Feel free to use whatever you need.” Sherlock followed him and found a nice room. His room with Ian and again the trigger clicked into place. He stumbled backwards and out of the room.

“No, no. I can't. Not into my room. Not another room. I will sleep on the sofa. Just let me sleep on the sofa, please?” He sounded desperate and looked at Ian.

“Whatever makes you feel good, Sherlock. I'll get you a blanket and a pillow though, OK?” Sherlock nodded and stood by the sofa waiting for him. He placed everything down and had a bad feeling.

“I'll leave my door open. If you need anything, feel free to come inside.” Sherlock looked as if he was freezing.

“Thank you...” He climbed under the blanket and pulled up his legs. Only his hair showed and he faced the back of the sofa. Ian looked for a moment and actually saw when he fell asleep.

He quietly left him and went to bed, as well. Being under his blanket, he tried very hard to ignore his cock. But he wasn't able to make it disappear. And his hand found its way between his legs and gently stroked his cock until he came in absolute silence.

It felt horrible and it hurt. It was a painful orgasm he didn't enjoy. He was exhausted and fell asleep.

***

He woke because a soft snoring noise invaded his head. He blinked his eyes open and found it was morning. And he smelled Sherlock. But that wasn't possible, was it? He carefully turned his head and there he was. He rested on the other side of his large bed and he had brought both blanket and pillow. He was on the edge to not take up his place when he moved. He was fast asleep and he snored. He had also drooled and Ian had to smile.

He carefully reached out and his fingertips found his hair.

“Simply adorable...” He whispered.

Ian's head rested on his elbow and he kept looking at him for a long time. Actually, he looked at him until he slowly woke. The snoring stopped and was replaced with a snuffle. He rolled on his back and languidly stretched.

Ian thought he had the graze of a cat, a very large cat. And he smiled. God, he wasn't just falling love, he already was in love with the man.

Suddenly, Sherlock stilled and his eyes opened. He slowly turned his head and their eyes met. Ian smiled and it lightened up Sherlock’s heart. He smiled back.

“Forgive me for invading your bed but I simply couldn't stay out there alone. I was very quiet, wasn't I?” He said with a rough morning voice.

“Yes, you were. I didn't wake up but when I did just now, it was a wonderful feeling.” Ian replied.

“That's what I just thought...” They looked into each other's eyes and Sherlock’s hand crept out from under the blanket. Ian's smile became broader and he took it. He once lightly pressed and kept holding it.

“Do you have plans for today?” Ian asked. Sherlock actually nodded.

“Yes. I am going to see my brother and Greg after having seen my brother's doctor for another tedious examination.”

“But these examinations are important.” Sherlock pulled his hand back and rolled out of bed.

“I know that since I am not stupid. Thank you very much, Ian.” And gone he was dashing into the bath grabbing his clothes on the way.

Ian so far had never experienced Sherlock Holmes. He had only met him with John as a very obedient submissive. He had found out how intelligent he was but this was daily life coming back to Sherlock and that was different. Very much so.

Clearly, Ian thought he had done something wrong. And he had no idea what.

He heard Sherlock rummage in the bath and wondered about breakfast. He was convinced that today would start without, at least if he had thought breakfast for two.

He sat on the edge of his bed and held his head with his elbows on the knees. His eyes were closed. He needed to talk to the man. He needed to understand.

Sherlock came out of the bath completely dressed only missing his shoes. He placed Ian's clothes neatly folded on the bed and just passed by. He collected his stuff from the flat and Ian stood to say good-bye. But he was too late because right then the door banged close.

Ian ran outside with his eyes wide open but he was too late. Sherlock was already gone. Ian ripped open the door and only saw the cab driving away.

“What the fuck...?” He muttered.

***

Mycroft sat at the kitchen table and admired his ring. His engagement ring. He grinned and turned his hand in the light from above. Then he sighed and turned back to his tablet. He checked Sherlock’s whereabouts and he became worried when he saw him dashing outside and leaving by cab. He also glimpsed Ian who looked confused.

What had happened there? Sherlock had stayed the night but what had been done to him? Had something been done to him? He worried his lips and wondered if he should call Ian. But then he would have to admit that he had been spying on both his brother and him. He'd better send Gregory to investigate.

Said one just joined him and plonked on the other chair. He was dressed for work already. They locked eyes.

“I had a wonderful night, Gregory.” He smiled.

“I am glad to hear that. Haven't lost my magic then.” Greg looked rather smug. Mycroft coughed.

“I'd like you to do something for me. And Sherlock.” Mycroft said after several seconds. Greg looked up.

“Yes? Did something happen?” Greg asked at once being alarmed by Mycroft's facial expression.

“That's what I want you to find out. Could you please go and talk to Ian?”

“And what should I ask him? I need a reason to interrogate him, don't I?” Mycroft told him what he had seen and now Greg was worried, too.

“I actually don't think that Ian has done something nasty to Sherlock. Then it would have looked different.” Greg said looking at the CCTV recording.

“You are probably right.” Mycroft sighed.

“Anyway, Sherlock is due to see my doctor today. Afterwards, he is supposed to come here. He won't cancel the appointment. I will talk to him about the other night.” Mycroft said and poured another tea.

“And I will go and see Ian during lunchtime. Then I can make it look private, my own concern and so on.” Greg stood and took his mug with him. Mycroft hated those, those stupid mugs people carried around in the tube and just everywhere. But Greg loved it and he had even given him one. It was grey and said _”Smile. You can't kill them all.”_

Greg had outright laughed when he found it one morning on the kitchen table and happily carried it around since then.

“Call me after you have talked to Ian. Sherlock will only arrive in the early afternoon.” Greg nodded and kissed him.

“Will do!” He called and left in a hurry. Mycroft shook his head and finished his tea. He would spend the time in his office until Sherlock would arrive.

***

Ian had thrown himself into his work. He had taken several clients himself. Clients who were special. Clients who especially needed rough treatment.

His expression was dark when he entered his workplace and only a few people dared to get close to him. He actually threw equipment after some of his dominant employees such as a plug and a cane and yelled at them. Afterwards, only submissives came near him, very quiet and obedient submissives.

Ian actually fucked several clients very hard. He actually fucked them into oblivion. But he didn't feel any better after half the day was gone.

Instead, he sat in his office and kept brooding when it knocked.

“What?” He yelled at the woman bowing her head. She took it though because she actually knew her boss would never hurt her.

“Sir, there is Detective Inspector Lestrade to see you?” Now Ian looked up. His first thought was of Sherlock. Was he OK? Or did something happen to him? He stood and came around the desk.

“Send him in, Clara.” He ordered but his voice was calm again. She smiled and nodded.

“Yes, Sir.” She closed the door and after a minute Greg knocked and entered. Ian stared at him.

“What happened?” He almost looked panicked, Greg thought.

“That's what I wanted to ask you, Ian. Mycroft and I are worried after this morning. You should know that Mycroft keeps having an eye on his little brother and he saw him leave your place. The way he left made him worry.” Ian just looked at him but now relaxed a little.

“Please, Greg, sit. Would you like a coffee or tea?” Greg accepted and they sat in the corner in two armchairs. Ian didn't talk until coffee was served and the door closed again. Then he slumped and sighed.

“Actually, I have no idea what happened. He suddenly became stroppy and behaved like a real brat. He almost yelled at me and then left.” Ian looked sad and lit a cigarette. His hand was shaking.

“It seems like Sherlock is back for real.” It was the only thing that came to Greg's mind.

“What are you talking about?” Ian was clueless. And Greg explained.

“Are you telling me that Sherlock is actually a brat?” Greg grinned.

“God, yes. A very intelligent brat. He has been solving so many crimes that were unsolvable, at least to us. But when something gets into his mind he has problems to figure out, he reacts strangely. Impolite. Like a brat.” Now Greg cast his eyes and sipped his coffee.

“That behaviour had completely stopped after John Watson had stepped into his life. By now we all know how he achieved that. I have to admit that I prefer Sherlock like he was before. Him being obedient and quiet never felt right.”

“What you are trying to tell me is that I said something wrong to him and that's why he reacted the way he did?” Ian wondered.

“Tell me what happened yesterday.” Greg just said. Ian looked at him and then told him.

Greg didn't once interrupt. Not even when Ian admitted his feelings. He listened to everything he was told. After Ian had finished his tale, he looked him into the eyes.

“You have done nothing wrong, Ian. This was just Sherlock.” Greg shrugged.

“And that's it?” Ian asked and Greg nodded again.

“Yes, that's it. You should know he won't come to his senses. He won't admit having done something wrong. It's because he doesn't understand.” He poured himself more coffee.

“You know, the fact that he stayed with you, kept being close to you, shows me something. He does like you. A lot. He sees you as a man, not a dom. He enjoys being with you. And he is confused because of what he feels. So, he lashes out. Plus, he is a fucking brat.” Greg grinned. And finally, Ian relaxed again. He rubbed his palms over his face.

“Can you give me any advice?” Ian asked.

“Keep going after him. Keep in contact. Tell him you need him. His help. He helped you before and quite successfully so, am I correct? He will come back to you.” Now Greg smiled and stood.

“I sure hope so.” Ian stood, too. He showed Greg to the door himself and leant against the frame.

“Thank you, Greg. I appreciate you coming here. Even though it was because you thought I hurt him.” Greg smiled a bit thinly but admitted it.

***

Sherlock had left Ian in a strop. He was angry. How could he? He wasn't stupid! He had been, yes. And he knew that. But in general, he wasn't. Not at all.

Thoughts raced through his mind while he drove home. Back to Baker Street.

He snorted. He needed something to do. He needed work. He dashed upstairs and left his coat on the hardwood. He decided to do some lab work. That would keep him busy until his appointment was due.

He scribbled his results into his notebook. Mycroft had given him several new ones and he filled it with his neat handwriting.

Finally, it was time to leave again. He picked up his coat from the floor and left. He hailed another cab and met Mycroft's doctor. He examined him and afterwards they sat in his office.

“Everything looks good but you seem to be agitated. Did something happen?” He asked a bit worried.

“No. Nothing. I just freaked out and had to come down. But I am fine. Nothing happened to me.” Sherlock didn't tell him and he didn't insist. Instead, he said something else.

“I made you an appointment for your skin. The laser treatment can start now if you like.”

“Very good. Yes.”

“Both your cock and your nipples have healed nicely. The holes will stay but you can have treatment there, too. The skin could be pulled together so at the end there will be only tiny pricks left.”

“Yes. We'll do that, too.” He wrote something down.

“Very well. You don't have to stay in the hospital. Just for the treatment and a few hours after.” Sherlock was very pleased and it showed. He had to get rid of any visible signs that reminded him of his time with his dom. John.

He stood. He actually was hungry now and wanted to see his brother.

“Thank you.” He gave him a small smile and the doctor smiled back.

“See you soon, Sherlock.” He left and walked through a park close by to reach his brother's place. He walked slowly and even drank another coffee sitting on a bench. And he smoked. He relaxed and felt actually much better by now.

He even admitted to himself that he might have overreacted when running away this morning. Ian had done nothing wrong. By heart, he knew that Ian didn't think him stupid. He had made him work for him after all.

Sherlock smoked and held his coffee. He should probably talk to him and try to explain. Should he?

He sighed and finished his coffee. He binned the mug and kept walking. He passed his brother's security and the butler sent him straight into Mycroft's office.

“Sherlock, come in. I am almost ready.” They locked eyes and at once Sherlock’s widened. His eyes roamed over his brother and stopped dead when he saw the ring. Mycroft blushed.

“I wanted to tell you personally.” He quietly said and Sherlock quickly stepped up to have a closer look.

“Can I see?” He asked still staring and Mycroft held out his hand. Sherlock took it and carefully held it close up. And finally, he smiled.

“Beautiful. I assume it's Greg's?” He asked looking absolutely serious. Mycroft just cleared his throat and didn't honour him with an actual answer.

“Anything new from my doctor?” Mycroft asked and Sherlock told him about the laser treatment and the suggestion for both his cock and nipples. Mycroft nodded.

“That's good, isn't it?” He asked because he knew how much Sherlock hated hospitals.

“Yes, very much. He said I won't have to stay and go home after a few hours.” Mycroft switched everything off and stood.

“Come on. Lunch will be served in a few.” They walked into the dining room and Sherlock expectantly looked at the table.

“So, what did you do with Ian?” Mycroft asked because he wanted him to talk about it.

“At first, I demand to know about your engagement. Why didn't you tell me?” Sherlock instead said.

“I wanted to show you and not tell you on the phone.” They looked at each other and Sherlock smiled.

“I am happy for you, brother-mine. You deserve it. Greg is a good man.” What he meant was that he was actually jealous. And he envied his big brother. He had found something he lacked. He thought he had found it but it turned out wrong. So very wrong.

“I am happy, too. I love Greg very much. I believed I'd never have what I have now. He also moved in with me for good. All his weird stuff is here. He has yet to place it everywhere.” Sherlock grinned.

“His guitar?” He asked and Mycroft slowly nodded.

“Yes?” Sherlock quietly laughed but didn't elaborate.

“Well, what did I do with Ian.” Sherlock looked at the table and collected his thoughts. He told his brother about their time in the museum and what he had told Ian about his dreams. He told him about the sleeping arrangements and how he had left.  
And then he even told him about these thoughts in the park and that he found he had overreacted.

Lunch was served while Sherlock was talking. And he never stopped talking while they filled their plates and poured the wine.

Sherlock took a second helping after having finished and his brother wondered about the feelings Sherlock had. He was quite convinced he knew about Ian's. But what about Sherlock?

“What do you think I need to do to appease Ian?” Sherlock asked eating his second helping.

“Talk to him. Tell him what you just told me. And wait for Greg to come home because he went to see him.” Now Sherlock’s head came up.

“Why?” He asked. Mycroft shifted on his chair. It was something he only allowed himself to do when he was alone with Sherlock. Or Greg.

“You know, I use CCTV to watch over you and...” Mycroft couldn't finish his sentence.

“You mean you are spying on me!” Sherlock stated loud and clear but kept eating.

“Yes, I am spying on you for your own safety, little brother. And what I saw worried me this morning. You ran away and I was able to glimpse Ian who looked totally confused. Sad even.” Now Sherlock’s moves became slower.

“Sad?” He took a sip of wine.

“Yes, sad. I believe he has feelings for you.” Mycroft said.

“He has. He told me.” Sherlock quietly answered.

“And what about you?” Mycroft said after a minute when Sherlock still hadn't said more.

“I like him. I even like him close. John left me with him before his clean up. And Ian treated me well. He gave me something to do and he trusted me. He helped me in the end.” Sherlock exhaled and drank more wine.

“We had dinner at Baker Street and I invited him to spend the night. I gave him my bed and stayed on the sofa. We had breakfast and it felt good to have him around. We spent time at the National and I stayed with him last night. I was on the sofa but found I didn't like it. I sneaked into his bed but he didn't wake. Then something went wrong. I said something a bit not good and left without explaining myself. It was wrong. What I did was wrong.”

“I am surprised you are reflecting so positively. It's good, very good.”

“But what can I do now? I don't want to lose him...” Now it was Sherlock who looked sad.

“I suggest we wait for Gregory to come home. He will tell you what Ian said and how he reacted.” Sherlock nodded.

“That's good. I'll be waiting in the library if you don't mind?” Sherlock said standing up already.

“Sure. You know where to find me or other things.” They parted and Sherlock pulled a blanket from the back of an armchair and got out of his shoes. He hung his jacket over the armrest and made himself comfortable with a book.

***

That was where Greg found him when he got home a few hours later. The book rested half on Sherlock’s face and he snuffled beneath it. Greg quickly took a picture with his phone and grinned. He had already talked to Mycroft and now stood by the sofa.

“Sherlock?” He asked and Sherlock twitched. The book fell down and he quickly sat up wiping over his mouth.

“Greg...” He groaned and ruffled his hair.

“You look rumpled.” Greg said sitting down. Sherlock just shrugged.

“I don't mind.” The butler appeared with coffee and biscuits.

“Here, have a coffee.” Greg said and took care of pouring one for Sherlock.

“Biscuit, too.” Sherlock said and already reached out. Greg handed him a biscuit and he devoured several ones before he focused back on Greg.

“What did Ian tell you?” Sherlock simply asked.

“Everything.” It was all Greg said and Sherlock understood.

“You told him I was a brat. Stroppy. My usual self.” Greg nodded.

“That sums it up nicely.” Greg grinned now and even Sherlock’s face showed a little amusement.

“I shall call him then, I suppose?” Sherlock asked.

“You should go and see him. Try to explain yourself. Tell him your thoughts. Just be honest. He will listen to you. And he will be beyond happy.” Sherlock tried to flatten his rumpled clothes.

“But I look horrible now...” Greg tilted his head.

“Not to him, you do. Believe me. He won't mind.” Greg smiled.

“If you say so...” Sherlock didn't sound convinced.

“Go and see your brother. He will gladly tell you about Ian's whereabouts. Then you can go and stalk him.”

“I am not a stalker!” Sherlock glared at him and stood.

“No, but you are a brat!” Greg stuck out his tongue and Sherlock snorted. Finally, both men grinned and Sherlock left to talk to his brother.

***

Soon after he left and hailed a cab. He rode over to Ian's home. It was early in the evening and his heart was beating fast when he stood in front of the door to the apartment complex. He rang the bell and a sharp voice came out of the speaker.

“Yes?” It was clearly Ian but he didn't sound very polite. At once Sherlock felt bad. He was a submissive after all. He cleared his throat.

“It's Sherlock. May I please come in?” He both spoke and looked into the camera. He knew it was on because by now the light was blinking.

He heard him breathing loudly and then the buzzer sounded. Sherlock pressed against the door and walked towards the elevator. He pressed the button for the penthouse and rode up.

His intestines were knotted and he started to sweat. The urge to appease Ian, to appease a dom, was strong inside him. But this was not the time for games. The elevator dinged and he straightened up. The doors slid open and Sherlock made the step forward and into Ian's place.

***

Ian had buzzed him in. There had been no question about it. He was surprised though that Sherlock had come back.

Now he stood in front of the elevator and waited for him. He swallowed. He was excited. By now, after having spoken with Greg, he knew better.

He expectantly looked at the opening doors. Sherlock stepped outside and they slowly approached each other.

Ian decided to let Sherlock do as he liked but he smiled. Sherlock relaxed; it was obvious. And he reached out for him, held out his hand.

The moment Ian took it made it all better. Sherlock's eyes watered and he wiped over them with his free hand.

“I am sorry. I was stroppy. I know you don't think me stupid. I believe Greg explained everything to you. Explained me to you. There is no manual though.”

“I'd like to write my own manual.” Ian quietly said and they stared into each other's eyes. They stood there for quite some time without speaking or moving. Finally, Ian gently pulled.

“May I please hug you?” He quietly asked and Sherlock happily nodded.

“Yes...” Ian pulled him into his arms and held him. He held him tight and Sherlock liked it. He smelled Ian. He felt Ian. And it was good.

Their bodies were tightly pressed together and soon enough things happened. This time Ian didn't move away. He stayed where he was and let Sherlock feel.

And Sherlock shifted so Ian could feel him, too. Their eyes met again and Sherlock shyly smiled.

“I know I am not supposed...” But Ian interrupted him.

“Hush, please. You can do whatever you like. I am glad you let me see.” Ian turned his head and his nose moved over Sherlock's temple and through the hair.

Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes. His grip tightened.

“I don't know if I can do this...” He whispered.

“We have all the time in the world. You need to recover and I will be with you if you let me.” Ian whispered into his ear. Sherlock nodded against him. And he cried.

“Please, don't cry. We are supposed to be happy. Come on inside.” Ian lightly pulled and Sherlock hesitantly moved.

“I am all rumpled...” He said but Ian kept pulling him into the living room.

“I don't care. For me, you are the most beautiful man I have ever met.” Now Sherlock blushed. But he was also reminded of John who had told him so many, many times. Sherlock swallowed.

“Please, do not make me compliments like this. I can't listen to them... I can't listen to the words John always said to me at the beginning. He lured me in, telling me how beautiful I was. He explained the world of sex to me...” Now he openly sobbed and his hands were shaking while he sat in an armchair.

Ian was shocked. His former best friend had been wicked, a wicked beast. What he had done to this man, Ian still couldn't fully comprehend.

“My friend, please don't cry. Have a drink with me instead and blow your nose.” Ian handed over a Kleenex box and Sherlock took it. He placed it on his lap and blew his nose while Ian poured the amber fluid into tumblers.

“Are you free tomorrow to do another excursion?” Ian asked looking at him. Surprisingly to him, Sherlock shook his head.

“Unfortunately, no. Tomorrow is my first appointment at the hospital. I need to stay a few hours after my laser treatment. They will get rid of my scars. It will need several treatments but they said my skin would be as good as new.”

“Oh, I see. Would you like me to wait with you?” Ian asked. Sherlock looked at him.

“You would waste your time there because I will probably sleep all the time. You instead have a job; you have work to do.” Sherlock shrugged.

“I have many people working for me and I would like to be by your side helping you.” To Sherlock, this was a bit alien. How could Ian help if he was sleeping? But then he had an idea.

“You could pick me up and take me there. The doctor will be able to tell you for how long I will be treated and need to rest afterwards. Then you can do whatever is appropriate.” Sherlock said. This was a compromise. He had been taught by Greg about them. He understood the concept but he didn't understand why he was supposed to make them.

But anyway, Ian seemed to be pleased.

“Yes, we will do that. When do you need to be picked up tomorrow?” He expectantly looked at him. Sherlock looked into his mobile and told him.

“Already at eight o'clock. My appointment starts at nine. That will leave enough time.” Ian nodded.

“I will be there.” Both men sipped their drinks and Sherlock felt he had done the right thing.

A while later Ian leant forward and looked at him. Sherlock wondered if he was supposed to leave now.

“It's rather late and I am hungry. Would you like to join me?” Ian asked and by the look on Sherlock's face, he had expected something else.

“Yes, I'd like that.” They stood and walked into the kitchen. Ian got a frozen meal from the fridge and Sherlock pulled a face.

“I am sorry to complain but don't you have any fresh supplies?” He asked a bit imperiously. Ian turned to him.

“I have but I didn't feel like cooking only for myself. This is so much easier.” He looked at the meal and shrugged.

“But now I am here. Let me help, please.” Sherlock already moved up his shirt and stepped up to the sink. He washed his hands and Ian stepped aside. He knew how great a cook Sherlock was and let him do as he pleased.

It seemed that even though he had been trained to be a host, to cook and serve and set up tables, he still liked to do it for himself and others.

Soon enough it smelled tasty and Ian's stomach rumbled. He smiled and wanted to set up the table but somehow Sherlock had managed to do that already. Instead, he opened a bottle of wine and put it on the table. And he got a bottle of prosecco to celebrate. He felt like toasting the man by his side, toasting their new relationship if you want to call it one.

Sherlock curiously looked at it when he brought the bowl with risotto. They sat down and filled their plates. But at first Ian raised his flute and Sherlock followed.

“I feel like celebrating. I am so happy you came back to me and admitted there was something. I promise not to tell you things you don't want to hear even though I feel very much like doing so. I promise to be there for you when you need me and leave you alone when necessary. I already told you about my feelings and I am glad you are here with me.” He led the flute to his lips and Sherlock simply stared and didn't move. It looked like he was processing everything Ian had just said.

But finally, he blinked and spoke.

“I am happy to be here with you. I am glad about the fact that I was able to show you how I felt and that I was able not to hide my feelings. You let me be who I am and don't expect me to act around you like a submissive. I mean, I am a submissive and it always meant being a lesser person. John explained that to me very thoroughly. That was why it was so different to admit my feelings because I know how strong a dom you are. I can feel it very clearly.” They looked at each other and Ian smiled.

“You are who you are and I let you be. Always. Promise.” And now he drank and so did Sherlock.

***

They spent a quiet evening with each other and finally Sherlock dared to ask.

“May I please stay?” He clung to his wine and looked into the dark red fluid.

“Of course, you can stay.” Ian's face told Sherlock where he would like him to stay and he relaxed.

“Could you provide pyjamas and socks?” Ian quietly laughed and nodded. They walked into the bedroom and Ian handed him the things.

“Thank you. I'll freshen up. I am really very tired now.” Sherlock looked indeed tired, Ian thought.

“You do that. I'll get you a second blanket and pillow. This time though you may move further from the edge. Otherwise you might fall out.” He shot him a grin and Sherlock blushed a little and quickly disappeared into the bath.

Ian became excited now. Sherlock would stay the night and in his bed. Perhaps he would be allowed to hold him? He would like that but wouldn't force himself upon him.

Soon enough Sherlock came back out dressed in Ian's pyjamas. He smelled fresh and had brushed his teeth.

“Do you mind if I am reading for a minute until I can sleep?” Sherlock quietly asked and hopefully looked up at him.

“Of course not. You know where the books live.” Ian disappeared into the bath and Sherlock picked a book from the shelf. It was _Hamlet_. Shakespeare always soothed him. He had no idea why.

He pulled back the blanket and sat against the headrest. He was covered all the way up to his chest and pulled up his long legs. He always did that. He had never done before John but he did it now simply because he could.

Ian returned and came to bed. He didn't come too close. He was so very careful with him, and Sherlock liked that.

“What are you reading?” Ian asked getting comfortable.

“Words.” Sherlock replied and Ian outright laughed. Sherlock carefully looked over the edge and then lowered his book.

“You really found it funny...” He looked both surprised and amused. Ian shrugged still laughing.

“Yes, of course. It was funny!” Sherlock kept looking at him. This man was so very different from John. And they had been best friends in the past. Ian though seemed to have developed into another direction.

“What are you thinking about?” Ian quietly asked but Sherlock shook his head.

“Can't...” He closed the book and placed it on the night-stand. He switched off the light and moved down.

Ian looked into the shadows and thought about his next action. He just had to try. He knew Sherlock needed to be comforted but he wouldn't ask for it.

“Let me hold your hand, please.” Ian whispered into the dark and placed his hand into the middle. It took Sherlock a moment to react. The blanket rustled when he moved and his hand was placed into Ian's. He closed his fingers around Sherlock's and held him. He didn't speak.

The tension very slowly left Sherlock's hand and fingers and the moment he completely relaxed he also was asleep.

Ian smiled into the dark and soon fell asleep, too.

***

The next morning Ian felt he was suffocating. He turned his head and groaned. He could barely move and blinked his eyes open.

Sherlock's body was slung around his like a giant octopus. He covered him almost completely and he was fast asleep. He also was hard, very hard.

This man was simply adorable and Ian relaxed beneath him. He would let him wake on his own because he didn't want to push him away. This showed him that he trusted him and Ian was glad he did.

It took Sherlock another half an hour to wake. He moved his head over his chest and snuffled. Then his arms came up and his legs moved. He groaned because his moves pressed his cock against Ian's body.

Ian still didn't move. He only waited.

Sherlock woke completely and carefully looked. The moment he realised where he was and what he had done in his sleep he pushed himself up and off Ian's body.

“Good morning, Sherlock.” Ian simply said turning his head. But Sherlock was hidden beneath his blanket and on his side facing the other way.

Ian stared at his back and knew he had to act, had to make him speak. And he poked him into his back.

“I woke up with you slung around me. It was the most wonderful thing I can imagine. Please, do not hide from me now. There is absolutely no reason. Get out from under the blanket, Sherlock.” Ian said.

Very slowly, the blanket was pulled down, and Sherlock turned his head to look at him. He looked totally confused. He also seemed to expect a scolding, that was the way he looked, Ian thought.

“I am very sorry...” He cast his eyes and Ian had certain fantasies of what he would like to do to John Watson. He had almost completely destroyed this man's beautiful mind and body. It would take a lot of time to restore both.

“There is no reason to be sorry for. Admittedly, I was surprised when waking up but very positively. It showed, deep down, you trust me. You came to me and it made me happy. I woke a happy man this morning.”

“It scared me what I did. Your reaction though was good and I am happy now, too. It was good to have stayed.” He quietly said. Again, Ian reached out and took his hand. And this time he simply took it without asking for permission. Sherlock just smiled and pressed it. Ian broadly smiled and they looked at each other for a while.

But finally, Sherlock sighed and pulled away to get up.

“I need to get home before the hospital. I need to change.” Ian rested on his arm and looked up at him.

“Yes, you do.” He smirked. Sherlock glared back at him and it surprised Ian. Sherlock was getting stronger day by day and it was good to see.

***

Sherlock insisted on going home alone. He needed some alone time before being picked up. Ian thought it weird but gave in.

“But I will pick you up later.” Ian said standing in the door with Sherlock.

“Yes, of course you will. We talked about it. Eight o'clock sharp. See you later.” Sherlock carefully touched Ian's hand and smiled.

“See you.” Ian smiled at him and they parted. Downstairs Sherlock hailed a cab and rode home. He quickly showered and got dressed again. He looked forward to the treatment. It was the first step to get rid of the things John had left, both mentally and physically.

Sherlock looked into his mirror and realised he was glad that Ian was with him, that he took care of him. And he did it without expecting payback. His eyes roamed over his image in the mirror and found he looked a bit better. But still he wasn't able to see what Ian obviously saw.

Then the doorbell rang and Sherlock turned away. He opened the door and collected his stuff. Everything went into his pockets while Ian carried a backpack. Sherlock looked at it and then at Ian.

“What did you bring?” Sherlock curiously asked.

“Since I will spend a lot of time waiting, I brought a book, my tablet, and snacks. Also, my mobile and wallet and such.”

“I see.” Sherlock said but really didn't.

“Ready to go?” Ian asked looking at him, and Sherlock nodded. He seemed to be relaxed.

“Yes.” Sherlock set the alarm and locked his door. Outside, Ian had parked his car directly at the curb. He quickly strode past Sherlock and opened the door for him. Sherlock was still surprised by his actions but liked it. They rode away and Ian didn't need long to reach the hospital. He parked the car and followed Sherlock inside.

“You can come along if you like. You can listen to everything and decide if you really want to stay.” Sherlock knocked at the door his doctor had pointed him to. They entered and both Sherlock and Ian had to sign several documents. One of them allowed Ian to stay and listen and also be informed. That way Sherlock found out Ian's real name. He actually was called Jean de Sousancourt. Sherlock found it beautiful and interesting but didn't yet comment. Ian Merchande had just been an alias for his business then. He would keep calling him Ian as long as he wanted to be called Ian.

Sherlock wondered though why his brother hadn't found out.

Ian was shown a waiting area while Sherlock just walked away without another word. Ian looked at his back and sighed. Then he made himself comfortable and got his tablet out. He started to work and read and had a snack. Several hours passed until a nurse entered the place.

“Mr de Sousancourt?” Ian looked up.

“Yes?” He expectantly looked at her.

“Mr Holmes just woke up and asked for you.” She smiled at him and he quickly stood and stuffed his things into the backpack.

“How is he? Did everything go well?” He asked.

“Yes, absolutely. He will need several more treatments but everything looks good.” Ian relaxed a bit and followed her into Sherlock's room. The nurse left them alone and closed the door.

“Sherlock, how are you?” Ian asked moving closer. Sherlock looked up at him and smiled.

“Very good. Now I want to leave but they won't let me.” He looked both angry and confused. Ian sat down by his side and took his hand.

“You still need to rest. They don't want you to faint outside and nor do I.”

“But I am feeling well!” If Ian knew him better, he would recognise the signs of a temper tantrum.

“You need to recover and therefore rest, Sherlock. Please, be responsible.” Sherlock pulled his hand back.

“Do not tell me what I need!” He became loud and surprised Ian who didn't know how to respond.

“Only because you are a dom, you are not to tell me how to feel or behave. No one ever will again. And now you can go. Since you are of no use to get me out of here, just leave me alone!” And he turned his head away.

Ian understood it was better to leave. He didn't want to risk his health and if he wanted him to leave, he would just do so. He stood and picked up his backpack.

“See you later, Sherlock. You know where to find me.” Sherlock didn't reply and Ian left. He was confused. And sad. He didn't understand what had happened. Again, Sherlock's behaviour left him utterly clueless. This wasn't just being a brat. This was quite a bit more.

To his utter surprise, he was stopped on his way out.

“Ian?” He hadn't looked left or right when almost running out of the place and now he saw DI Lestrade standing right in front of him.

“Greg, I am sorry. I didn't see you.”

“Where is Sherlock?” Greg asked. Ian cast his eyes and the move surprised Greg.

“He threw me out.” Ian told him.

“What?” Greg asked. Ian explained what happened and Greg shook his head pressing his fingers against his nose.

“This is so Sherlock. You did nothing wrong, Ian. You have witnessed the beginning of an epic temper tantrum.”

“But what can we do now? Or you because he wanted me to leave.” But Greg just grinned.

“No, you just can't give in. That's the wrong way to do. My experience tells me to confront. I normally yell at him when he behaves like that.” Greg shrugged.

“But I really don't want to yell at him. It will force him to...” Ian shook his head.

“I know what you are trying to tell me. But being a dom in this situation doesn't matter. Believe me, it's the only way.”

“What does his brother do when this happened in the past?” Ian curiously asked.

“Well, he has other ways to deal with his brother.” Greg said with a smile on his face.

“Such as?” Ian insisted. They stood outside now and Ian offered his cigarettes. Greg happily accepted.

“Well, he holds the power over Sherlock's funds, his money. He cuts it off when it gets too bad.” Greg said.

“I see.” Ian looked thoughtful.

“But what can I do except to yell at him? It doesn't feel good...” He shook his head.

“I suggest to go in there. Would you like to wait here or shall I call you later?” Greg asked and Ian really didn't have to think about it.

“I will wait. Perhaps he would like to see me after you have talked to him.” Ian looked hopeful.

“I'll see what I can do. Where do I find you?” They walked back inside.

“I'll be in the waiting area over there.” Greg nodded and they parted.

***

Sherlock was fuming. He rested on his front because his back hurt. Why did he have to stay here? It made no sense. He was awake and alert. He felt good, very good. But the nurses insisted on him staying for a few more hours.

And now he was all alone because he had sent Ian away, simply because he had insisted on the same thing.

Ian didn't give him what he wanted. He had hoped he would. Sherlock wanted to go home. He hated hospitals.

Someone knocked on his door and he didn't react. But Greg came inside anyway.

“Hey!” He cheerily called out and when Sherlock recognised his voice, he carefully rolled on his other side.

“Greg. Hey.” Sherlock looked up at him.

“How are you doing?” Greg pulled a chair towards the bed.

“The treatment, the first, is done. My back hurts a bit now but it's all fine. I am feeling well and want to go home. But no one wants to let me leave.” He pouted.

“You are an intelligent man, Sherlock. You very well know why they don't want you to leave. They need to make sure you are doing fine, that you don't faint and that your wounds do not inflame.” Greg looked very serious. Sherlock though still pouted.

“I hate it here...” Sherlock said very quietly.

“We all know that and I do understand. But it is only a few hours.” Sherlock didn't reply but his expression had changed a bit.

“I am sure the few hours weren't worth it to throw Ian out.” Greg finally said. Sherlock looked up at him.

“I didn't like what he said.” Sherlock tried to explain.

“You didn't like what he said because you saw the dom in him?” Greg asked and Sherlock's eyes widened.

“Probably? Yes...” He finally replied after a few seconds.

“I am sure he only meant well. I mean, he accompanied you, he waited all the time until you woke again and then you threw him out. How do you think he feels right now?” Greg leant forward with his elbows on his knees.

“He will be long gone and it won't matter anymore anyway.” Sherlock still was a bit stroppy.

“No, he still waits and doesn't understand why he has been sent away. You can be happy he is such a stubborn man, too. I believe he really likes you. He doesn't want to lose you, Sherlock. Do not destroy this. You have found a friend, a good man, and perhaps there might even be more for you in it.” They looked into each other's eyes.

“I like him a lot. He makes me feel good, very good. Actually, I don't want to lose him. I want to spend time with him. But the situation here has been too much. I couldn't cope and lashed out. He didn't deserve that.” Sherlock chewed on his lips.

Greg broadly smiled and stood.

“Sounds good to me! Now I am going to send Ian back in here and you can tell him what you just told me!” He cheerily said and Sherlock swallowed.

After the door closed behind Greg, he lifted up his bed because he didn't want to explain himself on his back or side. He stuffed a pillow behind his back and sat upright looking expectantly at the door.

***

Greg sent Ian back in who had no idea what to expect or even what to say to the man he loved. But Greg had seemed positive about the situation and told him he had to cope with Sherlock.

Ian stood in front of his door and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he straightened up and knocked.

“Come in!” Sherlock called out from the inside and Ian found it sounded hopeful. He pushed open the door and entered Sherlock's room.

They looked at each other and Ian closed the door and set his backpack down. He came closer but only very slowly.

“You came back...” Sherlock whispered.

“Yes, but only because I met Greg and he stopped me. I was sad when you threw me out. I didn't understand.”

“Greg explained everything very thorough, I think. I don't really know what to tell you. But you should know I feel much better with you around. I wasn't pleased with the situation. I hate hospitals. I don't want to be here. I probably expected you to do something, to help me out of here. And then you didn't and I became angry.”

“I need to get to know you better, much better, to completely understand your behaviour. I don't mind you being you. I love you...” Ian whispered.

“I really can't believe it...” Sherlock slowly shook his head and stared into Ian's eyes. And he slowly spread his arms. He wanted Sherlock to come to him, wanted him to decide. Sherlock swallowed but then his expression changed. He threw back the blanket and sat on the edge. He still wore the ugly hospital gown but kept his eyes on Ian.

He made the few steps and his naked feet padded over the floor. He carefully leant against Ian and rested his head on his shoulder. He sighed and relaxed. Ian carefully slung his arms around him without actually using any pressure on his back. He gently stroked over his body and due to the gown, he touched bare skin.

Sherlock once twitched but didn't pull away. They stood there for long minutes until the door was opened again and a nurse appeared.

“You are free to leave, Mr Holmes.” She said and then blushed. She quickly left again.

Sherlock lifted his head and smiled.

“I am free to leave. I am free to do anything.” It was like a revelation and Ian saw it, too.


End file.
